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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557464">Velvet Revolution</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sannixx/pseuds/Sannixx'>Sannixx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal, Persona Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Genderbending, NG+, New Game Plus, Peggy Sue, Persona 5 Spoilers, Persona 5 to Persona 5 Royal Time-Travel, Persona 5: The Royal, Post-Canon Fix-It, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:16:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sannixx/pseuds/Sannixx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Phantom Thieves: 1<br/>Yaldabaoth: 7</p>
<p>The Battle for Tokyo is over. Ren Amamiya is the only survivor.  But Igor and Lavenza have a plan: If Yaldabaoth could cheat so severely, so could they. A total reset; back to the start, with Igor and Lavenza at Ren's back the whole way through this time. There's a price for everything, though, and this one is steep: everything Ren has.</p>
<p>Now he's back, and while most things haven't changed, a few definitely have. Who's the girl with the red hair and the ribbon? What's Yaldabaoth up to, if not playing at being Fake Igor in the Velvet Room? Why does everything seem just ever so slightly skewed? And how on earth is he going to deal with paying far more than he ever realized he had to give?</p>
<p>A "Protagonist from Persona 5 NG+'s into Persona 5 Royal Instead" story, because I never got to do my P4 to P4G story in 8 years of thinking about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Other Relationship Tags to Be Added</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>208</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Balancing the Scales</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three AM the third day after the Battle for Tokyo, Ren Amamiya found himself sitting on a park bench, just out of the spotlight of a nearby lamp. Around his feet were empty spray cans of paint, and across the path splashed along a concrete wall that served to separate the high and low grounds of the park was a mural.<br/>
<br/>
It’d taken every scrap of talent Ren had osmosed from Yusuke to make. Bottom center, front and proudly displayed, a stylized depiction of the buildings of Tyoko in bright grey with red corner lights that seemed to wink and shimmer the longer Ren stared. Standing tall over the city was 7 figures, solid black brightly silhouetted by an illusionary back-light such that the only things visible were the detailed masks over each figure’s ‘face’. Four women, two men, and a cat.<br/>
<br/>
Futaba was on the far right, her body portraying every ounce of smug satisfaction Ren could pour into it with his mediocre skills. Just to her left was Ryuji, standing in that way that Ren knew meant that he was itching for a fight. It was a pose that he’d become very well acquainted with over the last several months.<br/>
<br/>
Ann was third, standing tall and unbowed by the world like Ren knew she’d built herself up to be. Ren had put Morgana on Ann’s shoulder, such that he was technically also portrayed in the middle of the group; he hoped the gesture would have been appreciated. Ren worried that he blended in too much with Panther’s ‘cat’ aesthetic. Mona was hardly anybody’s prop, after all.<br/>
<br/>
Makoto had been paradoxically both the easiest and hardest to get right. Hip cocked to one side, emphasised with a fist while her scarf fluttered behind her. He’d so wanted to give Makoto her eyes, as they were the most captivating and evocative part of her. Three attempts at getting the brilliant red glow of her stare right later, he hadn’t been able to capture the intensity and inner fire that he knew made Queen so vibrant and had given up in the end.<br/>
<br/>
Yusuke’s poise and elegance had been difficult to find as well. The way he stood, flexing like a reed in the wind, shifting only enough to let the world pass by but still marching to its own beat, his own unique style.<br/>
<br/>
At the very end was Haru. Ren had many regrets, but the way things had worked out with Haru would be one that he knew he’d carry for the rest of his life. She’d joined the Thieves so late, and it had cost her so much in the end. She’d mourned her father, but had never truly gotten over what had happened despite her words to the contrary. Now, she stood with the others, shoulders squared in confidence, unbroken and resplendent the way that Ren knew she could be and always was.<br/>
<br/>
Akechi’s beaked Crow mask was deliberately absent.<br/>
<br/>
All of it was portrayed over an ugly swirl of blacks, reds, greys and dark blues and purples that made Ren think of Yusuke’s first attempts at his ‘Desire’ painting. It was the same sort of vortex, only one that pulled in everything around it--hope, joy, energy. That seven Phantom Thieves were all that stood between it and Tokyo, in defense and defiance of their homes and all the people in it… was fitting, Ren thought.<br/>
<br/>
In solidarity, Ren had followed his friend’s naming theme and called the mural ‘Grief’. He hoped Fox would have approved.<br/>
<br/>
Grief - A Monument To The Fallen.<br/>
<br/>
Their profiles were all distinctive, though not so much that they’d ever be recognizable by them alone. Ren had wanted to put their names in the painting as well, to scream to the world “These are the Phantom Thieves. These are your saviors, and their names deserve to be remembered for all of time.” He just… couldn’t. Despite the public’s 11th hour turn-around, the memories of their spectacular fall from grace after Okumura’s death were still too raw and bleeding to put aside. The public was just too volatile, and most members of the Phantom Thieves still had family to be worried about. Ryuji’s mother, Makoto’s sister, Ann’s parents…<br/>
<br/>
Finding just one thief would have been enough for a determined investigator to find them all. He was too much of a coward to visit them in person; to give them the closure that each and every one of them deserved about the family they’d lost. The least he could do was make sure that he took the secret of their identities to his grave. He knew his friends would understand.<br/>
<br/>
He’d finished an hour ago, and had been sitting in silence ever since. The temporary curfew that Tokyo had been under the last few days was set to expire the next morning, and without the park having been dead empty at 9pm Ren was pretty certain that he’d never have gotten the mural done in time. But it was done.<br/>
<br/>
He hated it. Hated what it represented, hated the way it lacked any sort of the properties of art that Yusuke had talked about when he’d been helping him with Desire and Hope, hated the way he’d failed to capture the vibrant life that all of his friends had overflowing from them in boundless waves. Hated that it had to exist at all. Hated himself for not being better.<br/>
<br/>
The bench creaked as someone sat down next to him. He must be tired, as he hadn’t even heard them coming. There was nothing for it now. The paint was still tacky and the evidence was all around him. Maybe if he made a break for it, using the darkness to keep his face obscured, he could get away. If the person was a fan of the phantoms they might not even report him if he was really lucky. He was due some good luck after everything.<br/>
<br/>
He felt too heavy to stand. It was a bone-deep tiredness that didn’t come from lacking sleep, but a weariness that came from carrying too much for too long, and having finally been ground down to the nub. He couldn’t move, or run even if he wanted to. Even for something as pressing as this.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s beautiful. You do good work,” the person beside him said, and he didn’t need to look in order to recognize the voice.<br/>
<br/>
“Good morning, Lavenza,” he says instead, because <em>no, it really isn’t.</em><br/>
<br/>
“Good morning, Ren,” Lavenza says lightly, her voice tinkling like bells in the dark. He turns to look, and finds her yellow eyes locked on the mural, and he goes back to staring at it as well.<br/>
<br/>
“...Do you disagree, Ren?”<br/>
<br/>
“About the morning?”<br/>
<br/>
“About the mural.” The way she says it, Ren can hear the small smile that is undoubtedly pulling at the corner of her lips. It’s the blend of Caroline’s (poorly hidden) fondness for him and Justine’s quiet patience and amusement that was so uniquely Lavenza and yet still the twins that comprised her that stirs something within him. It doesn’t banish the grief, not even a little, but he still finds himself sharing that small smile with her.<br/>
<br/>
“Yusuke would have done it better,” is all he can say because his other thoughts are just too personal and raw to say aloud, and yet Lavenza reads it off him effortlessly anyways.<br/>
<br/>
“Yusuke would have done it differently,” Lavenza corrects him gently. “He would not have found the same heart or strength that you did, however. Yours is different, but it is worth no less.”<br/>
<br/>
“The city will probably have it painted over within a week, anyway,” Ren sighs. He can feel her aura of <em>defeatism doesn’t become you, inmate</em> (although she’d never use that word, as he’s not and should never have been a prisoner within the sanctuary of the Velvet Room) without even looking, and though he really truly doesn’t <em>want</em> to be rude, his mouth doesn’t seem to be listening to his heart. “...why are you here, Lavenza?”<br/>
<br/>
“My master sent me.” Lavenza, bless her, has the patience of a saint that both Caroline and Justine lacked. “He wishes to speak with you.”<br/>
<br/>
There’s an irrational spike of anger that shoots through Ren as she mentions Igor. The will to blame him for falling prey to Yaldabaoth is there, as it is to blame him for not just doing <em>enough</em>, but as quickly as it comes it drains from him, like attempting to hold sand in a clenched fist. He’s too exhausted to be angry, and besides Igor isn’t at fault. Nobody is but the gigantic golden sippy cup and himself. He can’t hold it, and just as fast as it came it’s fled, leaving him feeling the same sort of numb emptiness he’s carried with him for the last three days.<br/>
<br/>
It seems to take all of his energy with it as it goes, because he can’t seem to find the words to actually respond and settles for a grunt that he hopes somehow expresses <em>I’m really not up for it, right now. Or ever, possibly</em>.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m afraid it wasn’t actually a request,” Lavenza says, and suddenly she’s right next to him as he’s listing to one side, completely exhausted. Even though she’s barely four foot seven and looks a child compared to him, she doesn’t even budge as he topples onto her. There’s a slight adjustment, and his head is in her lap, his legs dangling off the end of the bench as he just lays there. She runs a hand through his hair. “We just thought it best you not pass out on your own.”<br/>
<br/>
It’s surprisingly comfortable, and her slender fingers relax the tension he’s been carrying through his entire body, and within seconds he’s asleep, his long night and sleepless couple of days having finally caught up with him.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
“Welcome. I’ve been expecting you.”<br/>
<br/>
Ren was still somewhat surprised by Igor’s voice. So long with Yaldabaoth’s deep bass, like metal grinding atop metal, had been replaced with the breathy sort of wisp of the real Igor, and it was constantly enough to throw Ren for a loop.<br/>
<br/>
“It seems your journey has come to an end. With Yaldabaoth defeated, humanity is once again marching forwards inexorably into the future. Despite the game having been stacked against you from the beginning, you’ve succeeded. For many, this would be a point of pride, a celebration for the ages.”<br/>
<br/>
Ren wants to slam a fist on the desk, because these are his <em>friends</em> that Igor is so blaisely dismissing, except there’s no desk in sight. The entire velvet room is different from any other time he’s seen it. The cells are missing their doors, all of the cots stacked to one side of the room. The guillotine, chair and gallows are all gone as well, as is the desk Igor always sat behind. Igor and Ren instead are both standing on a blue and black rug decorated with what looks to be a stylized theater mask, with the room otherwise completely empty.<br/>
<br/>
“This room has fulfilled its purpose, and as such we are preparing to move for our next guest. Life is a constant struggle between good and evil, after all. You were not the first, nor sadly will you be the last. The key you hold marks you as a permanent guest of the Velvet Room; you are welcome here at any time for any reason if you so wish.”<br/>
<br/>
There’s a long, dramatic pause as Igor looks at him over his hooked nose with bloodshot eyes while Ren searches for the words he wants to say. The Velvet Room feels more welcoming than it ever did while under Yaldabaoth’s control, despite the comparatively little amount of time he’d been a guest of the real Igor, and yet it never really felt like… home. Like a place he actively wanted to be. The connection that he’d forged with his other confidants, with the twins and even with the fake Igor didn’t carry over to Lavenza and her real master.<br/>
<br/>
“Or…” Igor says, and Ren feels his heart hammer in his chest. He has no idea what is about to happen, but he can tell that it will change everything. Everything.<br/>
<br/>
“There is another option, if you would like to hear it out? I can promise you that the choice will be yours alone.” Igor giggles a creepy little giggle, and Ren doesn’t really remember nodding, but he must have, because Igor continues.<br/>
<br/>
“Very well. As I’m sure you’re aware, most would consider Yaldabaoth’s defeat a spectacular and dramatic success. Even with every possible obstacle stacked against you, with almost no hope in a game rigged from the beginning, you and your allies triumphed where most would have failed. And yet, you do not consider this a victory by any measure, do you?”<br/>
<br/>
Ren shakes his head, because the weight of the past few days slams into him with those words in such force that if he tried to speak he’d likely throw up or burst into tears, or both. Probably both.<br/>
<br/>
Definitely both.<br/>
<br/>
“What if I told you, then, that there was a way to change your fate and the fate of your friends?”<br/>
<br/>
“I… I don’t understand. What are you saying?” Ren’s head is foggy, but it almost sounds as though Igor is saying--<br/>
<br/>
“What master is offering is a chance to return to the beginning,” Lavenza says, stepping into the Velvet Room from a side hallway Ren hadn’t been paying any attention to at all.<br/>
<br/>
“Ah, Lavenza, welcome back. I trust everything is in order?”<br/>
<br/>
“Of course, Master. His body has been returned to his room and is sleeping soundly.” She turns to Ren. “Should you refuse my master’s offer, you will awaken tomorrow morning safe and sound. No need to thank me.”<br/>
<br/>
“Lavenza is correct, of course. You would return to the beginning of your journey, to play the game as it was meant to be played. You would have the two of us with you to begin your journey again, so that you could be properly supported.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t… it can’t be that easy. Why didn’t… if we could…”<br/>
<br/>
“The forces of darkness cheated when Yaldabaoth invaded my Velvet Room. The contest in question is as old as time itself, but never before has one side broken the rules laid out at its start so egregiously as this. Because of that, my Master is prepared to declare the entire event nulled, so that you may begin again as it was supposed to be originally”<br/>
<br/>
There was so much to unpack there that Ren didn’t even really know where to begin. Igor had a Master? A contest as old as the dawn of existence? If the Velvet Room hadn’t already been a dream, he was sure that he would have collapsed right there.<br/>
<br/>
“There will be a cost, however. Tell me, Ren, what would you sacrifice in order to start again?”<br/>
<br/>
Ren didn’t even have to think. “Anything. Everything. Anything I have to give, I will.” His words were wild, frantic and without thought, and yet he knew in his heart that they were the absolute truth, and even though he was writing a blank check, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it or want to take back the words.<br/>
<br/>
“Be careful, Ren,” said Lavenza. “You need to understand exactly what it is you’re offering, and what you’re accepting, if you do this.”<br/>
<br/>
“Sending you back will balance the scales of Yaldabaoth’s cheating,” Igor said, steepling his fingers. “My master is willing to cheat in order to make such a thing happen, but doing so always extols a price. You would lose much of what you have gained over the past year. Your friends would no longer know you, your accomplishments would have never happened, and you would likely lose your very sense of self entirely. Just as you are now a different person as to who you were when you first arrived in Tokyo, you would be a whole new person then as to who you are now. The core of your identity would not change, but there’s no guarantee that the details of who you are would stay the same.”<br/>
<br/>
“Additionally,” Lavenza included, “while Yaldabaoth would no longer be able to cheat to the degree he did by overtaking the Velvet Room, it is the nature of such beings to cheat in other, smaller ways. There is nothing that we can do to prevent this, nor can we help to balance the scales beyond what we do for every guest. You would have access to the same services you did on your original journey, but we can offer no help beyond that. The world would be subtly different from the one you know currently. Also, we cannot bring back your persona compendium or any of your companions. You would be starting completely anew.”<br/>
<br/>
<em><b>Think carefully, Little Thief. Be guided by your heart and mind in equal measure.</b></em> Ren startled. Had Arsène just spoken with him?<br/>
<br/>
The ghostly form of his original persona, all red and black and flaming blue appeared in front of him, floating between Igor and himself. It had been a long time since Arsène had spoken to him directly. Even though other masks came and went, Arsène had always been by his side. He was Ren’s original persona, confidant, and good friend.<br/>
<br/>
<em><b>I am thou. Thou art I. Thy journey has come to its end, and yet we both know that we cannot rest. We know within our heart that this choice is no choice at all. We must go… yet, where you go, I cannot follow.</b></em><br/>
<br/>
It made a sick sort of sense, Ren realized as he understood what his other half was saying to him. If he did this, he’d no longer be himself, and as such the Arsène within him would no longer be himself either. If he did this, there would be no more Gentleman Thief with him, and while he may… <em>would</em> awaken his Persona again, that persona would not be the Arsène before him.<br/>
<br/>
He wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. He could save his friends, and everyone else, and all it would cost him is another friend. What kind of choice was that?<br/>
<br/>
<em><b>One that is no choice at all, Little Thief, as I have said. I have seen our heart, our mind is already made up. And while I may not return, not in this form and not with this face, know that the part of you that is me will always be within you. Your charm, your suave confidence, and the ideals that make you a phantom thief are inextricably linked to our sense of self, and as such I will always be beside you.</b></em><br/>
<br/>
“...goodbye, Arsène .”<br/>
<br/>
<em><b>This is not goodbye, Little Thief. I am thou, but thou will be I no longer. Now go, return and steal the dreams of everyone who thinks to stand against us! I will be watching…</b></em><br/>
<br/>
Arsène faded, and then was gone. There was really only one thing Ren could say, because his first persona had been right. Ren had made his decision days ago, standing over the bodies of his friends as Yaldabaoth faded from existence.<br/>
<br/>
“Do it, Igor.”<br/>
<br/>
Instantly, the sound of roaring winds from outside began to shake the Velvet Room. The overhead light fixtures began to swing.<br/>
<br/>
“Excellent. We’ve already begun the process. While we do not know exactly what awaits you on the other side, please do not forget that we are here to aid you on your journey in any way that we can.”<br/>
<br/>
Above them, the roof of the Velvet Room suddenly flew off, lifting high into the sky. Fierce winds began to blow about the room, whipping up Ren’s clothes into a frenzy and stinging at his face. The roar was deafening.<br/>
<br/>
“The key you hold will allow you to return here from your world,” Igor said, looking absolutely nonplussed by the wind. Despite him not raising his voice, Ren could somehow hear him just fine over the much louder wind. “We will not be able to bring you here until you return on your own and re-establish our contract. Once you’ve settled in, please come and find us.”<br/>
<br/>
“You’d better not take too long, Inmate!” Ren startled, as Caroline and Justine suddenly appeared where Lavenza had been standing.<br/>
<br/>
“Indeed,” Justine agreed, looking down at the clipboard she was holding. Despite the wind, the papers seemed to stay firmly attached to the board. “We will be eagerly awaiting your return.”<br/>
<br/>
One of the walls of the prison was suddenly uprooted by the wind and thrown through the space between Ren and the twins. In that moment, just like that, the twins were gone again and Lavenza was standing in their place, a coy smile on her lips. “After all,” she said, and the grin on her face suddenly took on a much more dangerous lilt. “Yaldabaoth has made this personal, now.”<br/>
<br/>
“Lavenza,” Igor said, and Lavenza curtsied, despite the wind blowing her dress around.<br/>
<br/>
“Of course, Master. See you on the other side.”<br/>
<br/>
The Velvet Room gave one last shudder, and then the floor beneath Ren’s feet collapsed and he was falling….<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
----<br/>
<br/>
<b>4/11 Monday - Morning</b><br/>
<br/>
There was a pounding headache behind his eyes as he pulled himself out of the dream world. The conversation in the Velvet Room stood out starkling in his mind, and he was up like a shot, frantically looking around.<br/>
<br/>
He was back in LeBlanc’s attic, although that didn’t tell him much as that’s presumably where Lavenza took him before returning to the Velvet Room. The far bookshelf, though, was covered in dust and old books and various clutter and trash that he distinctly remembered removing within days of arriving in Tokyo for the first time.<br/>
<br/>
Shaking, he pulled out his phone and looked at the date. April 11th. Two days after he’d first arrived in Tokyo. It was a day that was hard to forget. He’d first met Ann and Ryuji and Morgana on this day, the core of what would eventually grow to be an eight-person operation to reform society. First ventured into the Metaverse. First awakened Arsène .<br/>
<br/>
...first met Kamoshida. <em>The bastard</em>. He could just see his stupid smug face and just wanted to…<br/>
<br/>
...on hindsight, throwing his phone through the mental Kamoshida hadn’t helped nearly as much as he’d hoped it would. Instead of wiping the grin off the pervy teacher’s face, it’d just sailed right through, bouncing off the floor near the stairs.<br/>
<br/>
He got up, walked across the room, and retrieved it.<br/>
<br/>
It was only on picking it up that he noticed what, in hindsight, should have been obvious. The phone was larger than he remembered it being, and his hair fell heavy on his neck in a way that was utterly alien and yet comfortably familiar at the same time.<br/>
<br/>
He unlocked the phone (the password hadn’t changed, he noted idly), flicked on the front-facing camera, and…<br/>
<br/>
...a blue-haired girl stared back at him. Her.<br/>
<br/>
“...What.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Breakfast at LeBlanc</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ren has a date with a blonde haired punk, a phone app, and a castle that she absolutely *cannot* miss. So of course things immediately go sideways.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a mirror in her cardboard box. It was certainly not anything she ever could remember owning before, and there definitely hadn’t been one in the box when he’d moved into LeBlanc the first time around. And yet, when she’d opened the big cardboard box still sitting off to the side of the staircase rather than having been put away under the shelf where it belonged, the mirror was the first thing she saw.<br/>
<br/>
It wasn’t anything fancy. A simple desktop makeup mirror, probably no more than twenty five hundred yen, with a stainless steel frame and a pivot on the head, likely available at any of the big box retailers. She’d certainly never owned anything like it in her last life, but she was undeniably thankful that it was here now, because her phone camera wasn’t going to cut it.<br/>
<br/>
Her hair was a bright shade of velvet blue. She knew it well enough to recognize it anywhere, as it was a perfect match for Lavenza’s dress and the walls of the Velvet Room. Now it was also on her head, and on her eyebrows, and draping down in front of her eyes when she ducked her head and let her bangs hang in front of them.<br/>
<br/>
She’d found the mirror only after she’d gotten dressed for school, in her new school uniform, which itself had been a weird enough experience. It had been an annoyingly perfect fit, something that she probably should have been grateful for but instead only left her more confused. Everything else she owned, she’d found in the cardboard box along with the mirror.<br/>
<br/>
She’d left its contents there, unwilling to attempt to sort through what was both her life and <em>not</em> in the little time she had before she needed to leave to meet with Ryuji for the first time. Some of it had been familiar; most of it had not.<br/>
<br/>
The shelves and walls of her room were suddenly depressing in how empty they were. By December, her shelves and walls had been lined with presents from her friends and keepsakes of the good time’s she’d spent with them, both as Phantom Thieves and just as teenagers. When they’d gone, those keepsakes had become her most prized possessions, each one intrinsically linked to a memory of a happy time. Now, they were all gone. She’d bartered them away with everything else.<br/>
<br/>
She didn’t regret it, but she still felt their loss. She’d have to see about getting some replacements for them in the coming months.<br/>
<br/>
She tripped as she walked over to her shoes. Then she tripped again walking back to her chair to put them on. A speculative walk around the room had her trip twice more, both worse than the last. Her gait was notably off, and it was beginning to hurt her feet. And worse, the more she tried to focus on her steps, the faster she tripped. It took another three spills before she finally realized that the more she focused on <em>trying</em> to walk properly, the more she messed it up. Her body, it seemed, knew how to walk even though her mind didn’t.<br/>
<br/>
So. All she had to do was walk without getting into her own head. Well, that’s what she’d been doing since he’d been about five years old, hadn’t it? Easy enough. Just don’t think about it.<br/>
<br/>
She promptly missed the first step down the stairs, tripped, and fell with a scream. There was a bang as she tumbled to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the ceiling.<br/>
<br/>
“What?! What just-- Oh. It’s just you. What on earth was all that banging up there?”<br/>
<br/>
It wasn’t that she’d <em>forgotten</em> about Sojiro, per say. More that… she’d been avoiding thinking about him since she woke up. By the end of her first journey, Sojiro had been as much of a father to her as her real one had been. They’d had a mutual respect, but also a sort of familial love that only came with time and effort.<br/>
<br/>
Time and effort that this Sojiro had yet to put in. The way he was looking at her, with sharp and cold eyes, was so utterly alien to her after the past eight months that it did more to rob her of breath than the fall did. All she could do was stare.<br/>
<br/>
“Well? Don’t just lie there. You’re going to be late for school,” he snapped, walking back behind the bar that dominated half of LeBlanc’s downstairs. She pulled herself back to her feet, and Sojiro sighed. “At least you appear to be alright, Kurusu-san. Sit down. I can at least feed you before you leave this morning.”<br/>
<br/>
It took Ren a moment for her to even realize that he was talking to her. But LeBlanc was still closed, the ‘Open’ sign proudly pointed inwards on the door. Other than the two of them, the cafe was empty. <em>Kurusu-san?</em> “My name is Ren Amamiya,” Ren said. Or at least, that’s what she <em>tried</em> to say. What came out was<br/>
<br/>
“My name is Yui Kurusu.”<br/>
<br/>
“Hm? That’s what I said.”<br/>
<br/>
“No, I meant to say Yui Kurusu, not Yui Kurusu.” She choked, having said it wrong twice now, and a hand went to hold her throat.<br/>
<br/>
Sojiro put the spoon down from where he’d been making a plate of LeBlanc curry for her. “...you’re not on drugs, are you?” He asked suspiciously, eyebrow raised with a hand on his hip. He sounded angry. “I’m responsible for you, now. You can’t afford to fuck up your future by using drugs to--. If I have to I’ll search your room, you know. I’m not above it, if I have to.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m not on drugs,” Ren said quietly, because if she opened her mouth any larger she was afraid she might throw up. What on earth was <em>wrong </em>with her?? “I think… I hit my head harder than I thought.”<br/>
<br/>
“C’mere,” Sojiro said, setting the plate on the bar between you. “Let me see your head.” His voice was as gentle as it had been all morning, and for just a moment Ren could trick herself into believing that Sojiro, <em>her</em> Sojiro, was back.<br/>
<br/>
And then she was roughly torn out of it, as she looked <em>up</em> at Sojiro for the first time. Before, Ren and Sojiro had been about the same height. Ren might have beaten him out by a few centimeters, but largely things between the two had been equal. In fact the only person taller than him he’d really known was Yusuke, and that was just barely.<br/>
<br/>
Now, she was looking up at Sojiro by a good several centimeters, suddenly feeling very small.<br/>
<br/>
“You’ve got quite a knot back here,” he said finally. “No blood, though. Still, maybe you should go see a doctor before school.”<br/>
<br/>
Ren lept back as if burned. “No!” she proclaimed, and it was the loudest she’d raised her voice yet. It was higher than she thought it would have been, and kind of… melodic, maybe? She wasn’t sure of the right word, but it was nice enough. She couldn’t really say she minded it.<br/>
<br/>
“I mean, no. Thank you. The staff already dislike me enough without being late on my first day,” she said. Not that it would stop her from being late again <em>anyway</em>, but she needed to be in place to meet up with Ryuji and Ann before class began. Without their first foray into Kamoshida’s palace, there would be no Phantom Thieves, no justice for all of the kids Kamoshida had abused… Being there, and making sure she and Ryuji made it into Kamoshida’s castle that morning was a point in time she <em>couldn’t</em> risk messing with.<br/>
<br/>
Boss didn’t exactly look convinced, and her earlier outburst probably hadn’t done her any favors in getting him to trust her, but he also didn’t look like he was terribly inclined to fight her on it. It hurt, and yet she was thankful for it at the same time, an absolute mess of emotions and contradicting desires.<br/>
<br/>
“Alright,” he said finally. “But make sure you eat at least before you go. Can’t have you passing out on the way there.” He sounded so serious when he said it, but Ren had spent nine months with the man in the previous timeline. She could hear the undercurrent of concern he was fighting hard to not show on his face.<br/>
<br/>
Ren hopped (Hopped! Actually freaking hopped, because she was too short and actually had to climb the stool!) onto one of the bar stools. Sojiro had made her a plate of curry and rice, and unlike last time she didn’t question it. Even though it was just a plate of food, it was the most welcoming sight she’d seen since before the Battle of Tokyo, and she dug in with gusto.<br/>
<br/>
“Whoa! Too hot for you?” Sojiro asked a few minutes later, as she was finishing up the plate. It <em>was</em> too hot, far spicier than she remembered it ever being. She must have lost her tolerance for fiery food in the reset, because while a gentle heat had infused her whole body, her mouth felt like she’d sucked on glowing coals. Belatedly, she realized she was crying, and not because of the pain.<br/>
<br/>
“No. It’s just the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” she said with a smile, and she meant it.<br/>
<br/>
----<br/>
<br/>
She flipped the sign on the way out the door to ‘Open’. She’d also been sure to grab an umbrella.<br/>
<br/>
----<br/>
<br/>
The subway train crashed again.<br/>
<br/>
Ren had been expecting something like it to occur. She hadn’t been back long enough to even think about trying to prevent it, and as things stood she lacked both the power and the support she would have needed to even consider it. It was just one more tragedy she could lay squarely at the feet of the conspiracy that she and he friends had fought against so vehemently the first time around, before Yaldabaoth reared his stupid head and thrown everything into a new kind of hell.<br/>
<br/>
It did however mean that, like last time, Ren was navigating the twisting mess of Shibuya’s Underground to try and catch an alternate route to Aoyama Itchome where her school was.<br/>
However, <em>unlike</em> last time, she wasn’t stuck staring at a map for ten minutes trying to desperately figure out the detour she was expected to make.<br/>
<br/>
Which was fortunate, she figured, as her tumble down the stairs must have made her late to leave LeBlanc to begin with, because she stepped out of the Underground right as the rain began to fall.<br/>
<br/>
Directly ahead of her, Ann was watching the rain start to come down. This time, Ren really <em>did </em>fall to a knee in the shadow of the Underground entrance, all breath knocked from her frame. Ann was alive. <em>Ann was alive.</em><br/>
<br/>
That was probably the moment everything hit her, all at once. Igor had done it. They’d really done it. All of her friends were still alive. Seeing Ann standing before her, not as a ghost, not as a memory, but real flesh and blood, had locked her completely. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t call out. All she could do is watch as Ann pulled her baseball jacket-dress thing she always wore tighter around her shoulders.<br/>
<br/>
It was only after Kamoshida rolled up in his car and Ann got in, posture slumped all the while, that Ren came back to herself long enough to realize that she hadn’t even made an <em>attempt</em> at saving Ann from the drive. A part of her had been fantasizing about some excuse, <em>any</em> excuse she could have given to keep Ann from getting in that car. Then she could have joined Ren and Ryuji in the castle, and… the plan got fuzzy after that.<br/>
<br/>
Ren wished Makoto was here.<br/>
<br/>
She pulled out her phone, MetaNav app shining on the screen, when the thought occurred to her. If Ann was still here, still alive… then that meant that--<br/>
<br/>
A flash of blonde hair ran in front of her, shaking a fist down the street as Kamoshida’s car drove off.<br/>
<br/>
“Man, screw that pervy teacher!” Ryuji shouted after the car as it disappeared into the distance. Ren’s voice caught in her throat. He’s alive. <em>Ryuji is alive, too.</em> He was here. She could literally reach out and touch him.<br/>
<br/>
“Whoa! ...hey, you alright?” Ryuji asked, and Ren realized that she was crying again. <em>Dammit, this better not become a thing</em>, she thought, rubbing her eyes on the back of her blazer sleeve.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” she said, still unused to how soft her new voice was. “Yeah, I’m… I’m alright.” She sniffed, fighting desperately to bring herself back under control. This was <em>Ryuji</em>. The punk outcast with a heart that Ren had always been able to count on, when things got tough. She was <em>not</em> going to let her first impression be bawling her eyes out in front of the metro station because she couldn’t control herself.<br/>
<br/>
But it was hard, because she was just <em>so happy</em>.<br/>
<br/>
“Did that bastard do somethin’ to you? I swear to god he’s going to get his some day…” Ryuji seemed torn between glaring after the car and checking up on Ren, and wasn’t that just so Ryuji? A temper that burned hot, wrapped up with a soft streak that he kept reserved for his friends and those in need. And he sucked at showing it, so hard, but Ren and Ryuji had been through Hell together and the day she couldn’t see the good in Ryuji would be a cold one in hell indeed.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m fine, I promise.” She gave one last wipe at her eyes and forced a smile onto her lips. “Who was that, anyway?”<br/>
<br/>
“What, you messing with me or something? You do go to Shujin, right?” Ryuji asked, quickly scanning up and down Ren’s form. It was obvious enough, given that the plaid pattern on Ryuji’s pants matched the plaid of Ren’s new skirt.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m a transfer student. Today’s my first day,” she <em>couldn’t</em> find the confidence in her voice to save her life, could she? All her words were soft-spoken, and Ren didn’t know if it was a side-effect of being in this body or just the constant stress and shock that her day had been.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, yeah… you wouldn’t know then, would you?” He turned, glaring down the road where the car had long vanished. “That’s Kamoshida. Bastard’s the volleyball coach at Shujin Academy.”<br/>
<br/>
Right, shit, the app! She already had it open, so that meant that all she needed to do was play it like last time. “Kamoshida?” she ‘asked’, and that was one down. Now she just needed to get the other two keywords in there, and the game would begin.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah. Course I just call him ‘dickhead’. Fits just as well. He runs around acting like the school is his own fuckin’ castle or something!”<br/>
<br/>
“A castle?” Two down. Butterflies spiked in her stomach.<br/>
<br/>
“Uh huh. It’s like… he does whatever he wants and everyone else just lets him. Just… stay away from him, I guess. Oh, right,” and just like that, Ryuji’s mood shifted on a dime. Gone was his slumped posture and anger at a car that was long over the horizon, and in its place was the smile and energetic exuberance that Ren was so familiar with. He stuck out a hand. “I’m Ryuji Sakamoto, by the way. Nice to meet’cha.”<br/>
<br/>
“A pleasure. I’m Yui Kurusu.” <em>Dammit, </em>she did it again! What on earth was going on, and <em>why</em> couldn’t she say her name properly?!<br/>
<br/>
“Yui-san, eh? Alright, well, then… whoa!” Ryuji checked his phone. “Oh man, we’re gonna be late for school! Come on, follow me, I know a shortcut.”<br/>
<br/>
“Late for <em>school</em> and on my first day, too. Not how I wanted things to start.” And wasn’t <em>that</em> a lie, but it was hardly like she could up and say ‘<em>We are gonna be late to school because we’re about to start a movement that will shake Japan to its foundations’</em> though, and it was enough to slip the third keyword in there.<br/>
<br/>
Kamoshida. Castle. School. She somewhat awkwardly slipped the phone into her school bag, still unused to her skirt or its lack of freaking pockets. And so Ren turned and chased Ryuji down the winding mess of back alleyways that led from the metro station to the school, all the while staying just a few steps behind him, eyes locked onto the back of his school blazer as if he would vanish into mist again if she so much as looked away for a second.<br/>
<br/>
So she could be forgiven when the two of them rounded the last corner and stepped out of the alleyway to find… she stopped dead. There, where Shujin Academy was supposed to be, was… Shujin Academy. There were still students milling around just inside the gates, and a haggard-looking teacher that Ren was pretty sure taught first years was running around talking to groups of students.<br/>
<br/>
“How…?” her lips moved, but no sounds came out. She could feel her stomach plummet into her feet.<br/>
<br/>
“Alright, we made it!” Ryuji exclaimed, pumping a fist. “See, Kurusu-san? Not late after all, are you?” He laughed a little. “...is everything alright?” he asked, and she noticed that not only had she stopped to stare at the school in complete bewilderment but she’d also stopped responding.<br/>
<br/>
“Yep, everything’s perfect,” she lied, and was disturbed at just how easy it fell off her lips. “I just… need to make my way to the staff office, I think. Go on ahead without me, Ry-- Sakamoto-san.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes ma’am,” he gave her a flippant salute and stalked up the stairs to the school. After a long pause, Ren began to follow.<br/>
<br/>
She fished out her phone from her bag when she stepped through the front door. On the screen, in big bold letters, was “<b>ERROR: METAVERSE NAVIGATION CURRENTLY DISABLED. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.</b>”<br/>
<br/>
----<br/>
<br/>
Flap flap and so the butterflies begin. I'm curious to know what you guys think is going on, both with Ren and the world around her. I'm hoping things are starting to get interesting.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. First Day of School</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The MetaNav isn't working, Ryuji barely knows her now, and school is undoubtedly about to be hell. </p><p>Of course, given that things have already not worked out like Ren thought they would, is it any surprise when the little changes continue to pile up?  Ren *really* needs to find someone to talk to about all of this.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kawakami was waiting for her in the Staff Room. </p><p>The last time the two of them had done this, Ren had been four hours late and had missed half of the school day.  Ren had just been coming off nearly being murdered by Shadow Kamoshida and awakening the spirit of a crow-winged thief decked in red leather and blue fire that lived inside his soul. It’d been a long and painful morning that day, one that he wasn’t likely to forget as long as he lived.</p><p>He had been understandably distracted, barely listening to Kawakami with half an ear before his disastrous introduction into class 2-D.  The disaster hadn’t been Kawakami’s fault, of course, but it had done a great job at tinging sour every thought Ren had about the school until after returning from summer break.   </p><p>This time, she was much less late but no less distracted. The MetaNav’s error message was all that she’d been able to think about as her feet guided her on autopilot up to the third floor.  </p><p>She’d been back less than two hours and already she’d messed everything up.  The Phantom Thieves, the Phan-Site, the uprising against the corrupt and distorted of Japan’s elite had all begun that moment that Ren’s phone had unknowingly dragged both herself and Ryuji into another world, where Kamoshida was King and the school was his castle.  </p><p>The chain of events that it had spawned, from their first foray into the castle until Ann’s awakening, had been such an interconnected mess of coincidence, poor planning and absolute dumb luck that Ren didn’t know how she was going to recreate it without the initial catalyst. </p><p>She also had to come to terms with the idea that Morgana may not even be there, this time around. He might not be <em> anywhere </em> .  Morgana had been created in the depths of Mementos by a desperate Igor specifically to lead the Phantom Thieves into the depths to free him.  If Igor and Lavenza were to believed, the Velvet Room was safe. It won’t be overtaken and fused with the core of Mementos, and as such Morgana would never have been <em> needed </em>.  </p><p>Morgana might not exist. </p><p>The only person who could give her the answers she needed for sure was Igor, which simply made it all the more pressing that she make her way back to the Velvet Room just as soon as school let out.  Igor had said that he and Lavenza were supposed to have been there to guide her, and she damn well needed some guidance now.</p><p>She swung the door to the faculty office open. </p><p><em> I forgot how run-down she looked back then. Now.  Whichever. </em>  </p><p>Sadayo Kawakami looked surprised to see her.  To be fair, Ren was just as surprised to see her looking as run down as she currently did.  She hadn’t noticed anything like it the last time around, as her homeroom teacher had given her a dressing down despite a perfectly valid (even if it was a lie) excuse about why she’d been so late.  </p><p>“Oh, you’re here.  I’m surprised you made it on time.”  Kawakami sighed, and then gave Ren a sidelong glance.  “...you’re not what I expected.”</p><p>“I aim to confuse,” Ren said, sotto voice with a small curl to her lips.  “Yui Kurusu, nice to meet you.”  </p><p>Nope, still got the name wrong. At this point, Ren was pretty sure it was inevitable.  </p><p>Kawakami had the same look on her face she always did whenever something annoyed her.  It also didn’t escape Ren’s notice that she didn’t put her back to Ren as she walked over to pick up a file.  </p><p>“Right… just, try and stay out of trouble, okay? You’re already causing me enough work as it is. I don’t need the added stress of you getting yourself expelled.”</p><p>She opened up the folder and placed a student ID card on the table between them.  “Here’s your Student ID. Make sure you carry it with you whenever you come to school.” She placed another piece of paper beside it.  “Here’s your schedule. Try not to lose it.  I don’t want to have to make you another one.”</p><p>Things continued in that vein for another few minutes, with Kawakami walking Ren through all the information she already knew and Ren doing her best to nod during the lulls as she continued to turn over the problem of the malfunctioning MetaNav in her head.  </p><p>There was something interesting when she picked up her student ID from the table, though. Under the ID badge, mixed in among some of the other detritus of paper, was a flier.  A very familiar flier, with bright pink backing and a familiar typeface that read “Housekeeping Services Victoria”.</p><p>Ren tried to resist. She really, truly did. For all of half a second. Then she was picking up the flier and unfolding it. “Is this also something I’ll need…?”</p><p>“Huh?” Kawakami seemed to realize exactly what she’d accidentally left out, because it’d been snatched out of Ren’s hands and crumpled into a ball before she could even blink.  </p><p>“I-it’s nothing! Just, uh… j-just something I confiscated off one of the third year students! Don’t-- don’t even worry about it. No idea how that got there.” Nice to see Kawakami was still a terrible liar in either life.  “Just, grab your things and let’s go. Class is going to be starting soon.”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am.”  In truth, she didn’t feel great about messing with Kawakami too much. Ren could easily see the fatigue in the way she hunched in on herself and how she would occasionally lose focus and stare off into space when they hit a lull in the conversation.  Kawakami was a good teacher in a terrible situation, and it was unfortunately one that Ren wouldn’t be able to help with immediately.  </p><p>“Oh,” and there was that annoyed, confrontational tone again that was the whole reason Ren had decided to mess with her a little in the first place, “and you’re going to need to dye your hair back to its natural color. I’m sure the principle said something to you about it yesterday, but the school has a very strict policy on unnatural hair colors.”</p><p>There was a long beat in which Ren remembered that her hair was <em> blue </em> , because that was going to take so much getting used to that she was honestly considering <em> actually </em> dyeing it.  “...this is my natural hair color.”</p><p>Kawakami did not look convinced. “It is!” she insisted, actually talking at normal human volumes for the first time in the conversation.  </p><p>“If you insist,” Kawakami finally said and Ren could feel her disbelief from a good five feet away.  “But if I see roots at any point, we’re going to have a long discussion about lying to teachers and your future at this school, understand?” </p><p>Ren wasn’t worried. Crazy as it was, ‘Yui’s hair had always been velvet blue. She had the pictures to prove it. So she just nodded. </p><p>“Right. Come on, then. Class is starting.” She dropped her voice, and Ren was certain she wasn’t supposed to hear Kawakami’s muttered whine of ‘why did she have to be in <em> my </em> class?’  </p><p>With everything that had already changed, it was honestly kind of sad she was happy that Kawakami’s attitude towards her hadn’t..</p><p>-----</p><p>“I’m” <em> Ren Amamiya </em> “Yui Kurusu. Please take care of me,” she said with a bow.  </p><p>Class 2-D hadn’t changed, not that she’d expected it to.  Much like last time, all eyes were on her, both the guys and the girls. In fact, the only pair of eyes that hadn’t found her belonged to the girl with the shock of white-blonde hair by the window. Ann hadn’t so much as spared her more than a glance since she walked in, choosing instead to stare out the window at the drizzling rain with a cheek in her hand.  </p><p>“Kurusu will be joining our class for the foreseeable future. Please, treat her as you would any other student.”  Ren gave Kawakami a side-long glance.  Something felt… wrong, about the situation, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.  “Kurusu, as there’s only one open desk, would you please take a seat behind Takamaki by the window?”</p><p>Class 2-D was not quiet with their whispered commentary.</p><p>“<em> Look at her hair!” </em></p><p>
  <em> “I know, right? I’ve got to ask her who did her dye job. It’s so smooth!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Whoa, that girl’s kinda cute, isn’t she?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I dunno, man. I guess if you like the ‘terminally shy’ type” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Hey look, there’s finally someone in the class shorter than you” </em>
</p><p>Ann glanced at Ren as she passed, and it brought her up short. She’d always prided herself on being able to read her friends, and Ann had always worn her heart on her sleeve.  It was easy for Ren to see the depths of Ann’s fear and worry in the moment their eyes met.  </p><p>Ren was just happy her legs didn’t give out on her again.  </p><p>Predictably, the class had a field day with this half-second interaction between two complete strangers.</p><p>
  <em> “Did you see that?!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Do they know each other?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The look on her face was scary, wasn’t it?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’ll bet Takamaki is worried she’s going to go after Kamoshida.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Cat fight!” </em>
</p><p>Ann’s hand clenched into a fist. “Such lies…” she muttered, just low enough for Ren to hear. </p><p>“Alright, settle down, everyone!” Kawakami fought the class back into order, and Yui took her seat.  She spent the rest of the morning working on the problem of Kamoshida without the MetaNav.</p><p>It was only as the class broke for lunch that Ren realized what was feeling so off about the school.  There hadn’t been one whisper about her criminal record, or about how she’d murder anyone who so much as looked at her.  Nobody had brought up how she was an axe murderer just waiting for an excuse (and excuse you, axe murders with a smile were <em> Haru’s </em> thing, thank you very much).</p><p>The school didn’t seem to know. </p><p>Ren didn’t know why. Ren didn’t know how.  Whatever the reason, Ren <em> did </em>know that it wasn’t good.</p><p>----</p><p>Ren tried the MetaNav again after school let out for the afternoon. </p><p>“Suguru Kamoshida. Shujin Academy. Castle.”  <b> <em>Error: MetaVerse Navigation Currently Disabled. Please try again later.</em> </b></p><p>“Mementos.”  <b> <em>Error: MetaVerse Navigation Currently Disabled.  Please try again later.</em> </b></p><p>“Junya Kaneshiro. Shibuya. Bank.” Because she couldn’t remember Madarame’s first name.  <b> <em>Error: MetaVerse Navigation Currently Disabled. Please try again later.</em> </b></p><p>“Stupid thing…. Sae Niijima. Courtho--” <b> <em>Candidate Not Found</em> </b>. What?</p><p><em>Definitely broken. </em> This was possibly the worst-case scenario.  Nevermind cleaning up Japan, if the MetaNav didn’t start working soon she’d not be able to clean up <em>Shujin</em>.  She’d already had to duck Kamoshida twice in the halls just that afternoon.  She definitely needed a hat, or maybe a jacket like Ann’s, in the future. Her hair stood out far too much in a crowd, and would make it hard to blend in. Especially as a Phantom Thief.</p><p>It had been eight months since she’d done this last, and in between the then and now a lot of things had come and gone, and left her with memories that were spotty at best.  She knew that if things had gone as they had last time, tomorrow she and Ryuji would have returned in a misguided attempt to free the cognitive volleyball team from Kamoshida’s torture dungeon, and on their way out Ryuji would have awoken Captain Kidd as the third official member of the Thieves.  </p><p>After that, the order got a bit murkier.  She knew that at some point during the coming week, Ann accidentally got dragged in along side them, and their efforts at keeping her safe and out of the way had only led to her being strung up on a cross in one of Kamoshida’s sex dungeons. Only her awakening Carmen had prevented that moment from spiraling absolutely out of contr--</p><p><em> Shiho Suzui </em>.  </p><p>A spike of dread ran straight through Ren’s heart.  Shiho had definitely jumped from the school roof <em> before </em> Ann awoke to her Persona. It’d been the whole reason that Ann had finally decided to take her fate into her own hands.  If that had been the day of the volleyball tournament, Ren only had <em> two days </em> to avert it.  </p><p>Ann never really talked about what exactly had led Shiho up onto the school roof on that particular day. The school had been absolutely abuzz with rumors for the weeks following, and they had been so conflicting and out there that Ren was hard pressed to put stock into any of them.  Ren herself had only met with Shiho exactly once after that fateful day when they’d officially formed the Phantom Thieves, when she and Ann had taken her back onto the school roof to help her come to grips with what, exactly, had happened up there.  </p><p>They’d spoken about the why in the abstract, and about her desire to get away from Kamoshida’s control.  Ren had never asked, and Shiho had never told, exactly what had happened on that day at that time to lead her up onto the roof, though.  It was possible that it had just finally gotten to be too much, but Ren doubted it.  Ann always spoke about how brave and strong Shiho was. Ren was inclined to believe there was something more to the story, but it was too late to ask now.</p><p>A thought crossed Ren’s mind, and she was immediately ashamed for having it, but… Shiho’s jump had been the start of so much. It had been the spark that lit the inferno of Ann’s rage, and the lack of justice for her had been core to the team’s original vow of justice for those without hope.  Shiho had survived her jump, as well, and a traitorous part of Ren wondered if it wouldn’t be better to just… let it happen. </p><p>She hated herself for even considering it.  It was one thing to martyr oneself for their ideals. Knowingly letting another become a martyr instead was not only morally reprehensible, but a dangerous path to start down.  It went against everything the Phantom Thieves of Hearts had ever stood for, and Ren owed it to Shiho, and to Ann, and to everyone who had ever believed in them, to be better than that. </p><p>But then Ann might never awaken to Carmen. She’d never become Panther, never join the Phantom Thieves. Part of Ren wondered if that wouldn’t be the preferable outcome. After all, being a Phantom Thief had gotten Ann killed in the end. It’d gotten all of them killed.  </p><p>But she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough.  Not that kind of strength, even though Yaldabaoth’s defeat only came at the hands of her confidants and their faith in her at the very end. Not the kind of strength that meant that she’d struggle to reach even Kamoshida’s treasure, as weak as the shadows who guarded the path were. No, her heart was too weak. She missed her friends, even if they’d only been gone for a relative four days, from her point of view. She missed spending time with Makoto discussing strategy, and listening to Yusuke talk about his art. She missed running with Ryuji, and getting completely lost in Futaba’s video game anecdotes.  She missed all of them. </p><p>Plus, if she even tried it, she suspected that the Ann from her original timeline would come back to life and kick her ass.  Makoto and Haru would help.  The thought made her smile. God she missed them, despite the fact that Ann had been sitting in front of her all day, and that Haru and Makoto were just a floor below. </p><p>Still, anything else she would or wouldn’t do came second to the fact that, intrusive thoughts aside, she’d never be able to look Ann or herself in the eyes again if she just let Shiho jump.  So, first order of business for the new Ren Amamiya: Save Shiho Suzui.  </p><p>A very conflicted Ren boarded the subway to Shibuya.  There was a blue door down a side alley on Central Street she had to find.  </p><p>----</p><p>The door to the Velvet Room stood in the open space of a corner bend of the alley in Shibuya, just outside of the “Untouchable” airsoft shop.  Ren was so relieved to see it she could have cried. Everything that had gone wrong recently, it was just nice that for once something went exactly as she expected it to.</p><p>The door was locked. </p><p>Because of course it was. What had she been thinking?</p><p>She was about ten seconds away from hurling profanity at the door that only she could see (and oh dear wouldn’t that get the cops over to see her lightning quick?) when her school bag, which had been completely empty when she’d opened it in class today because apparently she’d not actually thought to pack anything, began to glow.</p><p>Saying the bag itself was glowing was not quite accurate. More to the point, something <em> inside </em> the supposedly empty bag was glowing, bright enough for it to be visible through the heavy woven material.  </p><p>Somehow, despite everything, Ren was still surprised to find that at some point between leaving school and arriving at the Shibuya alleyway, a key had been added to her bag.  It was blue, same shade as her hair, and old and heavy like it was made of iron and built for a big wooden door with an old, strong lock. It was glowing the same velvet blue as the door.</p><p>It was the key that Lavenza gave her, right before the final battle.  A final gift from Caroline and Justine.  Lavenza had said something about it being the key that all Wild Card holders were meant to receive at the beginning of their journey. Just one more thing Yaldabaoth had stolen from her the first time around. </p><p>She put the key in the lock and twisted.</p><p><b> <em>Cli-THUNK</em> </b>.</p><p>The door swung open, and Ren stepped through.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tabula Rasa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ren has questions. Igor has... answers? Igor has something, at any rate. </p><p>Oh, and Lavenza is there being adorably distracting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Velvet Room had drastically changed since Ren had been there last.  Gone was the wide open room, the blue and black chains hanging from the ceiling, and the dozens of individual cells along the walls.  The unwelcoming atmosphere had been completely changed.</p><p>Instead of a prison, the Velvet Room had been transformed into the interior of a private jet.  Everything maintained the same blue black aesthetic, but was rather unlike the oppressive like the cell bars she’d become so accustomed to over the past year.  Igor was sitting behind a wooden table, on a velvet blue padded bench against a dividing wall that blocked off the front of the plane from the back. </p><p>The walls were trimmed with blue leather, as were the few chairs to her right and the long bench that ran along the plane wall to her left, accented with dark wood to break up the relentless blue and provide depth.  Bright white lights mounted in strips in the ceiling made the whole space look warm and welcoming. </p><p>Igor looked utterly unsurprised to see her, either as a guest in the Velvet Room or as a girl. </p><p>“Well,” Igor said, and Ren’s knees almost gave out on her in relief to hear the reedy voice of the real Igor, rather than the harsh metal-on-metal of Yaldabaoth.  “It appears our guest has returned. Rather good time you’ve made too, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, gesturing at the comfortable looking chair opposite him on the other side of the desk.</p><p>Ren collapsed into the chair, suddenly finding herself utterly exhausted. </p><p>“It’s…” she fished for the right words, because there were so many appropriate ones. “...good to see you, Igor.” She settled on at last. Everything she wanted to say was summed up in those words, after all. </p><p>“And you as well,” Igor said with a small giggle and a very, <em> very </em> wide grin.  “Truth be told, we had worried you would have waited to come find us, with everything that has happened.” </p><p>“Yeah,” Ren said, voice dry. “About that…”</p><p>Igor held up a hand.  “Please, I know you have questions, but before we begin, there is some ceremony that must be acknowledged.”  He turned his head, staring at the new Ren with one big bug eye over the curve of his nose.  </p><p>“Welcome,” he said, “to the Velvet Room.” Ren noticed acutely the wording.  <em> The </em> Velvet Room. Not <em> my </em> Velvet Room, as it had so often been with Yaldabaoth. Interesting.</p><p>“This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. Though you have been a guest of the Velvet Room before, the room is now under, shall we say, Old Management.” Ren would forever hold that Igor giggling was the creepiest thing she’d seen in either life. </p><p>“Truth be told,” Igor continued, “All of this is information you should have received upon your first visit, had I still been in charge.”  Igor sighed heavily, and all of the sudden his manic and somewhat creepy vibe was gone, and Igor simply looked impossibly <em> old </em>.  “Had it not been for my weakness, none of this would have been necessary.  I cannot deny that my inability to maintain the security of the Velvet Room played a key role in shaping the eventual path that led you to face Yaldabaoth on his terms, without the support or preparation that this room was meant to provide you.</p><p>“For that, you have my deepest apologies.” </p><p>The hairs on the back of Ren’s neck stood on end.  He hadn’t known Igor well. The time between his rescue from the Depths of Mementos until the Battle for Tokyo had been incredibly short, and the two of them had only spoken a handful of times. Moreover, Igor wore the face of a betrayer, even if that face had been stolen by the traitor in question. </p><p>“It’s alright, Igor,” Ren said, because really, what other reaction could she have? It hadn’t truly been Igor’s fault. Yaldabaoth was massively powerful, created by the collective will and desires of an entire population. Japan was home to over a hundred and twenty five million people, and Tokyo was the largest metropolitan area in the world. </p><p>The Phantom Thieves had struggled against distortions of a single person.  </p><p>“It truly isn’t, but I thank you for your words all the same. However, I cannot deny the fact that had I been more prepared for such an event, your first journey had the potential to end much differently, and as such you would not be as you are now. That is something that I will have to live with.” </p><p>“Master, what do you want me to do w--” Lavenza stuck her head through the blue curtains behind Igor, and stopped when she caught a glimpse of Ren. “...excuse me.” </p><p>She ducked back behind the curtain, and Ren flinched as suddenly she was assaulted by the highest pitch squeal she’d ever heard. Both Ren and Igor stared at the curtains until it stopped almost fifteen seconds later. </p><p>Lavenza stepped out from behind the curtain, looking as properly composed as she could, and gave Ren a curtsey.  “Good evening. It’s good to see you again.”</p><p>It was moments like that which made it easy for Ren to forget that Lavenza was almost certainly older than her, time travel included.  And wasn’t that just too adorable to ignore? “Good evening, Lavenza.  You sound happy.” </p><p>“As is proper,” Igor said, “Lavenza will be returning as my assistant for the duration of your new journey.” Lavenza nodded, the serious air she was trying to put on undercut slightly by the fact that Ren couldn’t get over how freaking cute she was.  “Now, before we get to the questions I have no doubt you’re dying to ask, I would like to request that you humor me in a hobby of mine.” </p><p>He placed his hands on the table, and when he took them away appeared… a deck of tarot cards? Ren tilted her head to the side. The sight of them made him think of Chihaya, and her uncanny skill with the deck and reading the whims of fate.  </p><p>“I’d be happy to.” </p><p>Ren noticed that Lavenza was pouting from where she was standing off to the side. “What’s wrong?” </p><p>“You didn’t protest,” she said, frowning.</p><p>“Why would I?” Chihaya had been uncannily accurate in any prediction she’d done that Ren hadn’t been actively trying to alter. Igor was something so supernaturally beyond a normal human, that turning down a reading would have been foolish at best.</p><p>Lavenza muttered something.  </p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Ren said, smiling slightly. </p><p>“I said, I wanted to say ‘You lack patience’, okay!?” </p><p>Ren couldn’t help it. She laughed.  It just made Lavenza pout harder. </p><p>Igor laid out three cards in a row, face down.  Interesting. Chihaya had always been partial to a seven-card spread that involved a hexagon shape of cards with a seventh in the middle, something she’d referred to as a ‘karmic spread’ during one of her readings.  </p><p>“As I’m sure you’re aware, tarot cards can be used to read the flow of destiny.  Here we have a simple three card spread. First, the past.” </p><p>He flipped the card on his left, Ren’s right. It wasn’t a deck style that Ren was familiar with, but a large roman numeral XXI looked back at her. Along the bottom, easily visible as the card was facing her, was ‘The World’.</p><p>“The World, in the reversed position.  Unsurprising, but then again, I suppose that such a thing was to be expected.” The World wasn’t a card Ren was particularly familiar with, even with Chihaya explaining the major cards to her more than once.  It was something about completion and a sense of harmony when placed upright, but that was all she could remember. </p><p>“Next, we have… oh? Now isn’t this interesting.”  As Igor flipped the card, Ren suddenly became aware that Igor hadn’t flipped a card, but rather <em> two </em> cards that had overlaid atop each other perfectly on the table.  </p><p>“Did you make a mistake?” Was it possible that Igor would need to restart? </p><p>“Not as such, no. Even unexpected events often have meaning when tarot becomes involved. Let’s see, now. It seems we have… Death, in the reversed position, as well as… the two of wands, in the upright position.”</p><p>Ren knew the first card, the large white macabre skull looking back at her from in front of a large door with a rounded top, XIII along the bottom.  Chihaya had taken extra long explaining the misconceptions the card usually labored under, about how it very rarely reflected a literal death and often instead reflected a major transition, the ending of one thing and the beginning of another. </p><p>Ren had never heard of the Two of Wands before.</p><p>“Interesting indeed, especially considering that this reading should have only contained the major arcana.  I wonder, then, what the future might hold.”  Igor flipped the last card, and both he and Ren stared.</p><p>“It seems our return to this time has caused you to slip the bonds of destiny, in some small way.  Even the cards are unable to see what the future might hold for you. I wonder, if you returned in a week, might the results be different?”</p><p>Ren understood what he meant. Looking up from the table, in the ‘future’ position of Igor’s 3 card spread, was a blank white card. </p><p>With a wave of his hand, the cards on the table vanished, as did the deck that Ren hadn’t seen him put away.  </p><p>“Now, I’m sure you must have questions you’re dying to ask. Please, don’t hold back on my account.” </p><p>Ren didn’t.</p><p>Once the first question fell off Ren’s lips, she couldn’t make them start. Every question she’d had cross her mind in the last eight hours sprung from her unbidden.  ‘Why am I a girl?’.  ‘Who is Yui Kurusu?’ ‘What happened with Yaldabaoth?’ ‘Why isn’t the MetaNav working?’  </p><p>The questions came so hard and fast that Ren barely took breaths between them. Through it all, Igor just sat, head turned slightly to stare at Ren with a single, large eye, hands folded in front of his mouth.  No attempt at an answer was made, until Ren finally ran out of questions and energy several minutes later.  She slump back in her chair, suddenly exhausted.  </p><p>The silence hung for a long beat.  Ren felt stupid, not giving time to answer. </p><p>“It seems the answers to many of your questions are interwoven. I shall do my best to answer what we have time for.” </p><p>Ren waved a hand in sort of a ‘so get on with it’ gesture. Caroline would have smacked him for it, but Lavenza was content to just sit and watch, and Ren appreciated that. She was too tired to deal with the tsundere twin right now.  </p><p>“First, the matter of the ‘new you’ seems a fitting start. The magic of my master is a powerful thing, but even he cannot do things without a price. Returning you to the start of your journey was a heavy request,” and Ren suspected he didn’t mean ‘heavy’ in the traditional way, from the way he said it.  “It was only possible because of Yaldabaoth’s prior actions, invading the Velvet Room before your journey originally began.”</p><p>“He tried again, by the way.”  Ren’s head snapped over, and Caroline and Justine were sitting on the bench where Lavenza had been.  Caroline was smirking at him, kicking her legs (which didn’t reach the floor from her chair) and tapping her baton into her palm.  “It’s how we’re pretty sure he doesn’t know that you’ve come back in time.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Justine agreed, holding her clipboard to one side and nodding with a smile.  “He used exactly the same trick as last time to attempt to replace our Master. His lack of imagination was not successful.” </p><p>“Our master was way too strong for him!” Caroline crowed.  “Just like he would have been last time, too, if he hadn’t been ambushed instead.  You should be thanking him, Inmate!” </p><p>“Girls,” Igor chastised.</p><p>“Sorry, Master.”</p><p>“The point is,” Justine said, “that the Velvet Room is unlikely to come under siege again. The enemy has likely gone to lick his wounds somewhere secure for the time being.” </p><p>“Indeed,” Igor said, and Ren could see the satisfied smile on his face. Yaldabaoth had made no friends here. </p><p>“However, to fuel the magic that returned you to this time, a price had to be extracted. Tell me, what is your favorite food?” </p><p>The sudden topic shift surprised Ren.  “...I suppose it’d be teriyaki steak.”</p><p>“And your favorite things to do in your free time?” </p><p>“Read, I guess.  Maybe visit the batting cages?  Why does this matter?” </p><p>“It matters, because I suspect you’ll find that none of those answers are true, anymore.” </p><p>Ren didn’t understand, and said as much.</p><p>“The spell that brought you back has a very peculiar price. In order to fuel it, the target must give up pieces of themselves until either the magic involved has enough power, or the target is completely consumed.  It is rarely attempted and even more rarely succeeds, as those lacking the weight of personality often find themselves completely erased by the magic before the price is fully extracted.</p><p>“Think of it as a fire,” Igor said.  “It begins as a small spark, catching first on the willpower of the target.  From there, it first consumes the things that it cannot bring with it. These are things such as the relationships between the confidants you met along your journey, the collection of mementos that adorned your places of pride. The physical objects that you cherished and the interpersonal connections formed with others are fed to the fire first, and it begins to grow.</p><p>“Then, should that not be enough, the fire begins to consume the very essence of the target, starting on the outside where the most unimportant details are kept.  Things such as your favorite color, or your ingrained nervous habits.”</p><p>Ren felt like she kind of understood. “So, the magic… what, used me as fuel?” </p><p>“Something like that.  It is the nature of the spirit to hold onto what it finds most important as tightly as it can, to swaddle it in safety.  The things you kept away from the fire the longest were things that were most important to you, and the things you did not view as crucial to who you are, you let go of.”</p><p>“And that’s what happened to my body? It’s why I look more like Haru than I do Ryuji?” </p><p>“Very likely.  While I cannot say for certain, I suspect the cause of your change can be traced back to the magic of the spell, yes.” </p><p>That had horrifying ramifications.  “How much did it take, then? If I had to give up things as important to me as my body, my gender, my very <em> name </em>.  What else could I be missing and not even realize it?” </p><p>“I suspect,” Lavenza said, from where Caroline and Justine had reformed when Ren hadn’t been looking, “that you might overestimate exactly how important to you some of those things were.  Tell me, how often did you do things because of, as you put it, your gender?”</p><p>
  <em> Mishima and Ryuji looking over a bright pink flyer, the name of a maid service splashed across the top.  “Come on, Ren. This is exactly the type of thing guys like us are supposed to be doing!”  Ren eventually caved, not because he was ‘supposed to’ but rather because watching Ryuji and Mishima crash and burn was going to be hilarious.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ryuji leaning over the back seat of the Morgana-mobile, the heat of the desert ignored as he watched Ann tug on her sweat-drenched shirt. He could readily admit it was an amazing view, but Ryuji was being far too obvious and watching Ann go to town on him was going to be just as good, in a lot of ways. Plus, he liked to think he respected Ann enough to not be that creepy with her.  They were fantastic breasts, though. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Come on, three guys at the beach. We gotta try and get some chick’s phone numbers!” Ryuji had hatched another one of his hairbrained schemes, and somehow had convinced Yusuke it was a good idea as well. With the girls off on a banana boat, it was just the three of them for a while. He should probably tag along and run interference, just in case Ryuji managed to get some girl’s boyfriend after him.  Plus, it’d be a fun way to kill a few hours. </em>
</p><p>“I guess that… being a guy is just what I was. I never really thought about it too much,” she answered finally.  </p><p>“A relatively small number of people do, and generally it’s for a very different reason than to enjoy it. For you, it was just something that <em> was </em>, but not a pillar of your identity, so into the fire it went.” </p><p>“And my name? I can’t even <em> say </em> Yui Kurusu anymore.” </p><p>“Wait, truly? Yui Kurusu.  Yui.  Yui.  That <em> is </em> strange.” Lavenza looked as confused as Ren felt, but Ren had an extra helping of frustration added to hers.  “I guess it wasn’t important to you either? It’s the only thing that makes sense, although I admit I would have thought at least that much would have carried over. </p><p>“This cost,” Igor cut in, and Lavenza bowed her head in deference, “also goes to explain why you have been unable to use the MetaNav to access palaces.  It was designed to be used by those with a persona, or with the potential to awaken one.  As I’m sure you know, a persona is your true inner self, the one that we hide away from the world behind our masks.  As it stands, with so much of yourself having been consumed by the magic, you no longer have such an inner self to hide away.”</p><p>Ren could feel the ground drop out from under her.  So it was all for nothing, then?  No Persona, no MetaNav, no friends and no hope? </p><p>“Such a state is a temporary one,” Igor continued, and Ren could have cried. She’d been so worried for a moment that she’d let her fear get in the way of her common sense. She was going to have to watch that in the future.  “As you experience life over the next several weeks, you will discover new aspects of the person you have become.  Your favorite food, for example, or the things you enjoy doing in your free time. At which point, your inner shadow will reform, and the path to awakening your persona will return.”</p><p>“Basically, that old cliche of going out and ‘finding yourself’?  You’ll need to do that.” </p><p>“Why can’t I just use… whatever the real Yui’s personality was, then?” </p><p>“That is because there was no ‘real Yui’, as  you put it.” Lavenza smoothed out her skirt, then leaned forward.  “Bringing you back to earlier in your timeline involved removing the you who was from reality entirely, leaving a large Yui Kurusu-- oh wow, that is annoying. Leaving a large past-you shaped hole in existence.  Because much of the previous you had been consumed by the magic itself, it constructed you a new identity to fill what was gone.</p><p>“Anything about you that the magic couldn’t leave blank, such as your gender or your height, the spell used an inverse of your previous identity to construct a new ‘you’, so that you wouldn’t come back as a floating cloud of concepts and memories.”</p><p>“So,” Ren realized, “A girl instead of a guy, short instead of tall, long hair instead of short?  That sort of thing?”</p><p>Lavenza smiled.  “Now you’ve got it.  After that was done, it wedged you into the past-you shaped hole that had been left behind, and the universe has bent over backwards to accommodate that.  As far as the world cares, Yui Kurusu has always existed, but in a nebulous sort of form up until this morning.”</p><p>At least Ren wouldn’t have to be worried about being ‘consumed by the real Yui’s memories’, or something equally strange.  That would have been a terrible issue to have to deal with.  She was pretty sure the Velvet Room didn’t double as a councillor’s office, after all.</p><p>“That reminds me, I meant to ask.  Are you still offering fusion services here? I can’t help but notice that this space seems somewhat small for a pair of guillotines.” </p><p>“Oh, that reminds me. Master, where did you wish for me to put the chainsaw?”</p><p>...she had a chainsaw?  “You have a chainsaw?”</p><p>“Indeed,” Lavenza said with a happy smile.  “It even has the Velvet logo on it and everything. I believe Caroline had it in case the guillotines ever malfunctioned.” </p><p>...Ren missed Haru. Maybe she’d see about tracking her down once she figured out how she was going to deal with Kamoshida again.  With no Persona. Or Allies. Or Plan.  Darn, she'd made herself sad again.</p><p>“Do not worry. Our previous services are still on offer, should you find yourself in need of them. The powers of persona manipulation are my specialty, and are not tied to the shape of the room. It is why Yaldabaoth left the acts of your previous fusions to Justine and Caroline. He lacked both the skill and the knowledge to do so himself.  The guillotines will not be needed, should you wish to fuse your persona in the future. You may even find that such acts have improved in quality, now that I have returned.”</p><p>Ren could read it in his posture. For all Igor was generally cryptic and otherworldly (something Ren wasn’t convinced was an accident), this was one thing Igor was actually <em> proud </em> of.  Ren wouldn’t have been surprised if Igor told him that he’d taken personal offense to Yaldabaoth’s practices, not because he’d been kidnapped, but because Yaldabaoth did such a hack job of providing the services the Velvet Room was meant to offer. </p><p>It was a nice thought.</p><p>“Alright,” Ren said, sitting up and leaning forward.  “There’s just one other thing I need to know now.  I need to know about Morgana.”</p><p>-----</p><p>An exhausted Ren left the Velvet Room as the sun began to set over Shibuya.  She turned and ran for the underground.  Sojiro was going to kill her if she made it home late. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wanted to stop this from being a massive exposition dump. I failed at that so hard that I’m actually cutting a bit of the conversation and will come back to it in a few chapters in flashbacks. </p><p>Hopefully this answers a few questions and raises a bunch more, because I enjoy nesting mysteries like that.  </p><p>Let me know what you think, and if you have any comments or critiques I’d love to hear them. Thanks for reading.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Double Speak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Second Day of school goes somehow less well than the first, but also better.  And Ren starts making strides to make things better, even as changes that can't be attributed to her start to make their appearances.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Ren woke the next morning, it took her a moment to realize where and when she was.  </p><p> </p><p>It still hadn’t sunk in, she reflected as she changed out of her sleepwear and into her school uniform, that everything had been undone.  The corner was still stacked high with old clutter and junk, rather than the chocolate fountain and Sapphire poster she’d gotten hanging out with Ann.  The shelf next to her bed was stacked high with dozens and dozens of old books.  She sneezed from the dust.  </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, are you awake?” Sojiro called from the lower floor of the cafe.  “You’re going to be late for school if you’re still asleep, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Sojiro was waiting behind the bar when she descended the stairs, having actually taken the time to pack her school stuff into her bag this time.  In front of him was a plate full of curry rice and a small cup of coffee.  He looked up from where he was drying out a glass with a hand towel.  </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, so you were up.” He looked disinterested, and if Ren hadn’t spent nine months learning how to read him like an open book, she might have actually believed it.  “Good. One less thing for me to have to handle, I guess.  Here, have some food.”</p><p> </p><p>To Ren, it smelled just as good as it had the day before, and she said as much. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, don’t read too much into it.  I’m still not going to feed you like this every day.”  He sighed.  “I didn’t get a call from the school yesterday like I was afraid I would. It seems like you’re learning to keep your head down and stay out of things that don’t concern you.  That’s all this is.” </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Boss.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you heard about that, huh?” he said with a grin. <em> Dammit </em>, Ren realized sharply that Boss had never actually told her that particular nickname this time around. </p><p> </p><p>She grinned easily, ignoring the slightly sick feeling.  “Jongen-Yaja is a pretty small place, and people love their gossip,” she not-explained. </p><p> </p><p>“So they do,” Sojiro agreed, and turned back to do some more work in the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Ren stared at his back as he worked, idly eating her curry.  Sojiro was… not acting like she expected him to.  In the days before they’d grown to understand each other, when she was just a boy trying to keep his head down while moonlighting as a society-reforming antihero, Sojiro’s attitude towards her had best been described as frosty.  </p><p> </p><p>Boss had seen the old Ren as a kid who didn’t understand ways in which people and the world in general could be cruel, on the cusp of losing his future before it could even begin.  It was only with a lot of hindsight and with a much stronger understanding of who Boss was as a person and what he’d gone through that Ren had realized that Sojiro’s early attitude had been a somewhat clunky attempt at scaring him straight, more or less.  </p><p> </p><p>Ren hadn’t exactly helped that relationship in the beginning, though.  Although Sojiro had come around in the end, he’d started as one of the many, many voices that had tried to convince him that it would have been better if he’d just allowed Shido to abduct that woman that night.  It’d taken a long time for her to work past that.  </p><p> </p><p>This Sojiro was different. There hadn’t been any warnings about locking her out if she came back to LeBlanc late, or threats to call the police if any of the shop’s equipment went missing. He wasn’t (overtly) looking for excuses to kick her to the curb, either.  He seemed to flicker back and forth between a much more mild version of the threatening Sojiro from the beginning of her first adventure and the Sojiro that she’d come to know after the truth of her phantom thieving came out, when he’d agreed to cover for her even knowing the truth. It was weird.</p><p> </p><p>She ate every bit of the curry and left with a quiet goodbye.  It was delicious, even though she could only really taste spices and pain.  </p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“<em> The Ginza Line will be arriving in… </em> five <em> … minutes.  Please prepare to board.”  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Is that the new girl?”  And let the gossip begin.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s so thin…” Ren hadn’t really taken the time to examine her new body that closely, but that… sounded off? Like, it was <em> true </em>, at least, but she wouldn’t have expected that to be her defining trait. More she’d expected something like ‘short’ or ‘tiny’. Or more people talking about her hair. </p><p> </p><p>“I hear that the school was really excited to accept her.”</p><p> </p><p>Seriously, it felt like everyone was talking about her hair right now. She definitely needed to go buy a hat.   Or maybe borrow Ann’s baseball jacket. </p><p> </p><p>“She’s some sort of athlete, right?”</p><p> </p><p>On second thought, maybe not Ann’s jacket. She grinned at the mental image of herself swimming in the fabric, the hood pulled up and dropping down over her eyes and wait that last comment didn’t sound right.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not fair. Why can’t I be that thin?” </p><p> </p><p>A quick glance told Ren that the gossiping students (a boy who looked like he was still asleep and a blonde girl with her hair pulled up in a ponytail) weren’t even looking her direction. Instead, they were looking at a girl near the front of the boarding line who Ren was relatively certain she’d never seen before. </p><p> </p><p>Ren would blame her first thought (‘<em> wow, she </em> is <em> thin’ </em> ) on the gossiping students. The actual first thing she noticed was the girl’s maroon red hair, which fell around her shoulders and down her back.  She was (annoyingly) also taller than her, when Ren was slowly coming to accept was just going to be a <em> thing </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Still, as the other students gossiped away until well after the train had arrived and everyone boarded, the new girl was the focus of Ren’s attention. </p><p> </p><p>She finally got to see New Girl’s face only after everyone was on the train. Ren would have been the last person to claim that she knew the names and faces of everyone at Shujin, but the more and more she thought about it, the less confident she was that she had ever seen someone with a shade of hair quite like New Girl’s.  It was somewhat like her own in that it stood out in a crowd.  </p><p> </p><p>Ren could tell two things immediately, though, as she stood next to where New Girl had managed to set a train seat. She was cute, and she was sad.  It was in the way she sat, not quite curled up into herself but not open either, eyes downcast, with a tiny frown and her glasses slid part way down her nose.  It looked familiar. Ren couldn’t place why. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, excuse me.” New Girl had a voice a bit like her own, too. It was soft and easy to miss.  Ren watched as she offered her seat to an old woman.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, this being the Tokyo underground and people being people, New Girl hadn’t even stood properly to let the old woman sit when some guy in a crumpled suit who looked like he’d spent the night sleeping in a car somewhere slid into the chair instead, surprising Ren, the old woman, and New Girl all in turn. Especially because he’d been closer to the exchange than she was, and there was no way he hadn’t heard New Girl offer the chair specifically to the old woman. </p><p> </p><p><em> Opportunist </em>. </p><p> </p><p>From the way her body language changed, Ren could tell New Girl wasn’t exactly happy with the situation either. She clenched a fist and grit her teeth, and Ren thought for a moment she could see how New Girl was supposed to look, with a fire in her eyes. And then, just a moment later, it passed, and the girl seemed to visibly deflate. Her fist unclenched, her shoulders slumped, and she was back to just looking sad.  </p><p> </p><p>It reminded her of Makoto, before the incident with Kaneshiro that led to her becoming Queen.  </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” New Girl said, turning to the old woman.  “I had hoped that…” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, don’t worry about it, dear.” </p><p> </p><p>Ren looked to where the man was apparently sleeping. She couldn’t tell if he was just exhausted and had actually fallen asleep sitting up in a moving train, or if he was faking it to get out of having an awkward conversation, but she didn’t like it. </p><p> </p><p>She may not have had the MetaNav, or a Persona, or a team, but she could at least do this.  “Do you want me to wake him up?” she asked. She saw the man’s jaw tense out of the corner of her eye. Definitely faking. </p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” New Girl turned to look at her with wide eyes. “Oh, please don’t. It’s alright. I can see his point of view as well.” </p><p> </p><p>It was about that point at which the train pulled into the station, and any possible further conversation was drowned out by the crowds.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Class dragged on all day.  It had been dull the first time around, but the second time learning the same material had made the entire process three times as torturous.  Honestly, Ren had zoned out around an hour into the day, scribbling down thoughts and plans about the Kamoshida/Shiho crisis and turning over the new puzzle that was the mystery new girl in her head.</p><p> </p><p>Her best guess at the moment for the latter was that she hadn’t been the only person to take a spontaneous trip across the gender line on her return.  It made exactly as much sense as anything else, anyway.  </p><p> </p><p>It was an honestly weird feeling for her that she was genuinely wishing the school’s rumor mill was a little bit better, because as it stood she wouldn’t be trusting anything that she heard through the same grapevine that had accused the past version of herself of being a drug dealer, arsonist, murderer, cannibal… if it was a crime against humanity, the old him had apparently done it. </p><p> </p><p>Speaking of, there was still no hint of her criminal record among the student body.  The whispered gossip was about her and Ann’s apparent love rivalry for Kamoshida’s affections, although those were more aimed at Ann than herself.  She’d nearly lept across the desk and slugged the first person to make an <em> extremely </em> off color remark about Ann and Kamoshida’s ‘relationship’.  </p><p> </p><p>The girl sitting next to that guy had smacked him in the back of the head instead, and he’d spent the following hour whining about it. It would do for now.</p><p> </p><p>So when the final bell rang and the class filtered out, Ren was content to remain where she was, resting her chin on a propped up hand and staring out the window.  </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Takamaki.  Things have been pretty dangerous lately, with all those accidents on the subway and whatnot.”  And now she wasn’t, because that was a voice she’d recognize anywhere.  </p><p> </p><p>She was out of her seat like a shot, bag left on the ground.  Out in the hall, at the bend of the stairs, Kamoshida had managed to corner Ann. Ren watched from the doorway as the other students gave the pair a wide berth.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, they are. Sorry, I’d really love to stay and chat but--”</p><p> </p><p>“If you’ve got some place you need to be, I’d be happy to give you another lift. I’m parked just outside, what do you say?” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no thank you.  I.. um…” </p><p> </p><p>Kamoshida was a parasite that sucked the life and hope out of everyone and everything around him, and that was never more clear than as Ren watched Ann try to come up with what was obviously an excuse to avoid going anywhere with the older man.  She looked defeated, in a way that she had never looked after joining the Phantom Thieves.  Even at their lowest, when they had all but faded from existence and had only survived by dumb luck and the power of the Velvet Room did Ann look as close to giving up as she did now.  </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Takamaki-san, there you are!” Ren exclaimed loudly as she stepped from the room, a bright smile on her face.  “I was afraid you’d run off before I could return your notes to you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” Come on, Ann, figure it out and play along.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? Kurusu-san, right?” Kamoshida asked, and Ren could immediately tell that she’d put herself on his bad side already.  Not that she cared.  </p><p> </p><p>“That’s me,” Ren nodded.  “You’re… Kamoshida-sensei, right?  I’m really sorry if I interrupted your conversation with Takamaki-san.  It’s just, she sits in front of me in class and I was worried that what I learned at my old school might not be enough to prepare me for this year, and--”</p><p> </p><p>“And I lent her my notes! That’s right.  I still had them from last year and--” And Ann couldn’t act worth a damn.  Still too loud, still too nervous, and looking incredibly awkward while doing so.  Right. Abort. Abort!</p><p> </p><p>“She volunteered to make sure I was caught up today after school.  She ran off so suddenly though I was afraid she’d forgotten.”  Ren didn’t even have to fake the smile she was giving anymore, which was reserved entirely for Ann. </p><p> </p><p>“She has, has she?” Kamoshida asked, eyebrows raised.  “Are  you sure you shouldn’t find someone a little more… studious?  I know you’re new, but Takamaki-san is very…” </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Ann demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that!” Kamoshida laughed, loud and fake.  “I just meant that you’ve been so busy with everything recently, with all your photo shoots and being sick that you must not have had time to study much recently.” He turned to Ren, eyes piercing.  “Hey, you know, I bet you’d make a great volleyball player.  I’m the coach, you know.  I could introduce you to some of the third years as well. I’m sure one would be happy to teach you everything you need to know.”</p><p> </p><p>The way he said <em> ‘everything you need to know </em>’ made Ren’s skin crawl.  She shook her head, doing her best demure act.  It was passable.  </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’m not much of an athlete, Kamoshida-sensei.” </p><p> </p><p>“Nonsense!” He gave Ren his best ‘charming teacher’ smile.  “I’ve got quite the eye for these things, you know.  Plus, the volleyball team here is kinda famous and respected.  I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt someone in your position to have a place to belong, right?” </p><p> </p><p><em> Her criminal record </em> .  Ren tilted her head to the side.  “I’m not quite sure I understand, Kamoshida-sensei.”  <em> Is that a threat? </em> Went unsaid.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just, you know how school rumors can treat the new kid.  Someone decides one day you’re a criminal or a thug, and suddenly it’s all over the school and you carry it with you for the rest of your academic life.”  <em> Definitely a threat. </em>  “But everyone respects the volleyball team too much to do anything like that. That’s all I’m saying.”</p><p> </p><p>Ren’s grin turned sharp. From the look on his face, Kamoshida definitely noticed.  </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have to think about it, Kamoshida-sensei.  It’s a big decision, after all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, of course.  Just… don’t take too long, alright? Rumors get started rather quickly, you know?” </p><p> </p><p>With one last threat, he was gone.  </p><p> </p><p>“...monster,” Ren growled under her breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Why did you do that?” </p><p> </p><p>In all the excitement, Ann apparently decided the smartest option she had was to step off to the side and keep quiet.  It’d seemingly worked, because both Kamoshida and Ren herself had forgotten all about her.  </p><p> </p><p>The question had been small and accusatory.  Ren couldn’t help but smile. Even with the hostility, it was good to see Ann again.</p><p> </p><p>“Because I need to return your notes,” she replied, small smile on her face.  “I left my bag back in the classroom.  Come on.”  </p><p> </p><p>“I never gave you my notes. I don’t even think I <em> have </em> my notes from last year,” Ann finally replied once the two girls were in the otherwise empty classroom with the doors closed.  </p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Ren said simply.  “But nobody else does, and admitting that out loud in a hallway where anyone could overhear us seemed like a bad idea.” Her grin fell away.  “Are you alright?” </p><p> </p><p>Ann looked surprised, before hugging her arms close to her body and twisting away somewhat.  “I’m fine,” she said, in the least convincing tone of voice Ren could imagine.  “It’s always like this.” </p><p> </p><p><em> No, you’re not, Ann </em>.   This was Ann before Carmen. A girl who was convinced that she needed to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders for her best friend, who couldn’t ask for help and couldn’t accept it when it was offered. This Ann had resolved herself to another two years of suffering in silence, all for the sake of her best friend.  </p><p> </p><p>This was an Ann without hope.  </p><p> </p><p>“It shouldn’t be,” Ren disagreed, and oh that’s what her voice sounded like when she got vehement. It was actually kind of scary.  “And everyone in that hallway should have done what I did before I got there.” </p><p> </p><p>“Well, they didn’t.  Haven’t you heard? I’m Kamoshida’s girlfriend, after all.” </p><p> </p><p>“If you’re his girlfriend, I’m the Emperor.”  Ren raised an eyebrow in Ann’s direction. At least, she tried.  Apparently single eyebrow raising was another skill she’d need to relearn. </p><p> </p><p>“...anyone ever tell you you’re kind of weird?” Ann asked eventually, and Ren got the feeling she was opening up a little bit.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve literally never heard that before in my entire life,” she said, giving her best deadpan stare.  Ann cracked a smile.  <em> Success! </em></p><p> </p><p>“...thank you,” Ann eventually relented, making her way for the door.  “I would have been in a lot of trouble if you’d not stepped in when you did.  But you should stop, before he gets interested in you.  I can handle this on my own.”  <em> He already is, and no you can’t </em>.  Ren didn’t say either of those things. Instead, she just called to Ann as she approached the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Ann stopped and turned.  “Things will get better. You’ll see.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you knew anything about him,” Ann shook her head, “you’d know just how wrong you are.” </p><p> </p><p>And then she was gone.  </p><p> </p><p><em> I know better than you could ever believe, </em> Ren thought to herself with a smile.  <em> And I don’t intend to fail now </em>.  </p><p> </p><p>The door slid open again, and a few students walked in to clean the room. Ren took that as her cue to leave.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, Ren had gotten used to the idea that she needed to be the lynchpin for everything that they did.  The others asked her for help, not the other way around.  She needed to the the rock that everyone else needed, and for the most part she was happy to do it.</p><p> </p><p>Except that now she had no powers and no team, and the lives that hung in the balance of her next actions weren’t her own.  As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the meeting with Ann had driven home just how little she was truly beginning with, and how important it was that she not fail.  </p><p> </p><p>Which is why, ten minutes later, she was sitting down at an occupied table in the library.  Its lone occupant raised their head to look at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me.  Some of the other students in the hall pointed me in your direction.  You’re Niijima-senpai, yes?”  Deep breath.</p><p> </p><p>“I need your help.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So I've done a rather large write-up as to my thoughts on Persona 5 Royal as a game now that I've finished it as well as what those thoughts mean for the story as a whole. Unfortunately, those thoughts are over five thousand words long. So I can't put them here. </p><p>I can however, link to where I have put them, at the forum where I'm cross-posting this story.  You can find them at the bottom of the chapter here:</p><p>https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/velvet-revolution-p5-to-p5r-new-game.67779/page-2#post-16000159</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Long Live the Queen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ren acknowledges she needs help. Unfortunately, she has to push harder than she wants to in order to make it happen. But she's nothing if not persistent, and she has faith in her Queen.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took almost no time at all for Makoto to pack up her bag and lead Ren to the Student Council room next door.  That was just fine with Ren; out of all the places in the school, the library held some of the worst memories about her past life.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’d never been particularly welcome anywhere, but the library had gone above and beyond in making that obvious.  The whispers were louder, the topics were more extreme, the glares were harsher, and the token effort that the teachers put in to keep control of her classmates didn’t extend beyond the classroom door. She’d never been forcibly removed, but she honestly gave it even odds that it had never happened only because she’d only gone to the library twice before giving it up as a bad job and never setting foot inside again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But, needs must, and right now, Ren <em> needed </em> Queen.  Joker may have been the leader of the Phantom Thieves, but Makoto had been uncontested second-in-command from the moment she’d awakened to Johanna in the lobby of Kaneshiro’s bank.  Her rock solid and fiery personality and penchant for analytics had been an invaluable tool for the Phantom Thieves, and more than once Ren had found herself leaning on Makoto’s support to make it through the worst of the bad times.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Problem was, and Ren had to keep telling herself this, Queen was gone, along with the others.  They’d all stepped into that altar surrounding the Holy Grail, and only Ren had limped away.  The Makoto that sat before her in the student council room wasn’t Ren’s old anchor.  This Makoto was still the Good Girl under too many expectations and obligations, like a train on rails going only where others guided her to. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Makoto smoothed out the lines in her skirt, something Ren recognized as one of Makoto’s nervous tics.  He’d seen her make the same gestures dozens of times in the past, even while wearing jeans.  Her face was open and expressive, but Ren could see the tension in her hands and shoulders.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry for the delay,” Makoto apologized, setting her bag on the floor by her chair.  “You caught me in the middle of reviewing last year’s material.”  Makoto smiled, and it didn’t reach her eyes.  “You’re the new transfer student, right?  Yui Kurusu?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damn. Makoto definitely knew about her criminal record, Ren realized. One of the teachers or principal likely informed her as Student Council President.  There wasn’t any other reason as to why she would have been on Makoto’s radar without the rumors running rampant over the school like they had the first time. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t realize I was famous,” Ren said, doing her best to disarm some of the possible tension.  It didn’t seem to help, so she sighed and rubbed at the space between her eyes.  “I’m sorry to distract you from your studying, but I think there’s something seriously wrong and I don’t know who else to talk to.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Makoto apparently knowing about her criminal record, but nothing else about her, was definitely a handicap she hadn’t expected.  It was a disadvantage, for sure, but one that wasn’t quite big enough to offset the natural advantage she’d had from the moment she stepped back in time: she knew her friends.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Makoto was diligent, hard-working, and as tenacious as anyone Ren knew when it came to injustice.  He had a big heart and a good head, and Ren knew that if she could just get Makoto involved in the Kamoshida abuse issue, Makoto wouldn’t let it go until Kamoshida was rotting in jail.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, as of right now, Makoto hadn’t quite reached her breaking point.  She still very much looked up to and trusted the authority figures in her life to do right by her and by others, and was willfully blind to the way that they dictated the way she should live her life by what <em> they </em>wanted, rather than what was best for Makoto herself.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>If Ann had been without hope, this was a Makoto without independence.  Convincing her that the school was covering up for a serial abuser would be a task easier said than done. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-----</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not saying I don’t believe you,” Makoto said, “but I do hope you have proof of what you’re saying. Those are… serious allegations.” Her body language was screaming <em> I don’t believe you </em>. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ren had done her best to present everything she could about Kamoshida.  The abuse, the predations, the blackmail.  Everything short of mentioning the metaverse was on the table, because Ren trusted Makoto to do what was right.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not… yet,” Ren admitted.  “But I’m telling you the truth.  I’ve seen other men like him in the past.”  Or the future, as the case were.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you don’t have any evidence, how could you even know the things you’re alleging? You only moved to Tokyo recently, didn’t you?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know because…” Ren trailed off.  She couldn’t say ‘<em> because I’m from the future and we already have gone through all of this, oh, and also you and I were best friends along with a group of six others in a revolution that uprooted the apathy of the Japanese people and killed a god’ </em> .  Under pressure and panicking, Ren would later reflect that it was impressive that she’d managed to come up with a remotely plausible excuse at all.  (Then Ryuji would give her shit for it, because everyone else would agree that, at the time, it was a really <em> bad </em> excuse.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...because I’m psychic.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...I’m leaving.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can prove it to you!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You must take me for a fool, then.” Makoto was getting intense now, and Ren could start to see the wisps of the girl who would be Queen.  “There’s no such thing as the supernatural.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Ren would have laughed.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“At least hear me out?” she didn’t quite beg, but it was definitely close.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Makoto sighed.  “Tell me something that you couldn’t possibly know. Something that I can verify right now.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Something about you, then?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you can,” Makoto agreed, although she still had her scary face on.  (It didn’t affect Ren nearly as much as it used to, now that she knew exactly how much of a marshmallow Makoto was behind her intense face.)  Her entire posture screamed disbelief, skepticism. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ren closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting the memory come to her.  Darkness. A hallway.  A crash of thunder, orange hair, reflections off glasses.  A scream.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re afraid of ghosts.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a pause.  “A lucky guess.  Hardly an uncommon fear, after all.” Ren spared her a quick glance.  She’d uncrossed her arms and was leaning forward almost in spite of herself.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ren was already committed to the bit, had been the moment the word ‘psychic’ passed her lips.  There was nothing to do but keep going.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hardly anything lucky about it, but I suppose I can understand why you’d think that.” She paused.  There was one thing she could tell Makoto that would definitely convince her, but… she didn’t feel good throwing it back in her face like this. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you sure you won’t believe me with just that?” she warned.  “You… probably won’t like the other thing I have to say.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She could easily read Makoto’s face.  <em> I’m sorry, Makoto. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You regret the way you treated your father, before he died.” <em> That </em> got Makoto’s attention.  “He was never around much, was he? Busy fighting for the justice he believed in meant that he spent a lot of time away from home, leaving you and your sister alone.  You were angry with him all the time, because you loved him and you missed him.  And then he was murdered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Now you struggle so hard to get into a good college because you feel like you’re a burden on your sister.”  Ren very specifically did <em> not </em> say that Sae resented Makoto for their situation. It may have been true, but Makoto didn’t need to hear it from a stranger.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She talked about how Makoto was so focused on getting into a top-notch university and getting a good job so that she’d not be such a hindrance to Sae’s own aspirations and life, and about how she was so guilty because she felt like she was holding her sister back and destroying their relationship.  She did her best to soften the blow with every word, but a body blow is still a body blow.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The truth was harsh enough already.  There was no need to make it harder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can… keep going, if you need me to,” she said softly, at the end.  <em> Please don’t make me </em>.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a long pause, as the silence just hung there between them. Makoto’s head was bowed, and Ren watched a tear drip into her lap.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I-I have to go,” Makoto said, leaping up and making for the door. Shit, Ren had pushed too far too fast. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ren knew that if she let Makoto step out that door, that’d be the end of it.  No help saving Shiho, no help taking down Kamoshida, and possibly no Queen. No friendship with Makoto.  That was something she absolutely couldn’t allow.  She’d already pushed Makoto further than she had ever wanted to, so now it was just time to go for the kill.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait!” she said. Makoto stopped, hand on the knob, but didn’t turn back.  Ren said the first thing that came to mind.  “If you don’t help me do something about this, by the end of the week a student will try and kill themselves.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Makoto let her hand fall from the doorknob.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s why I came to you.  You’re the only person that can help me stop it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...who?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Ren said, and that was technically the truth.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She remembered now, how she’d caught Ann in the subway underground. How they’d spent an hour at a cafe in an out of the way corner, as Ann confessed everything about Kamoshida, crying her eyes out to a perfect stranger who was willing to do what apparently nobody else would: listen.  How she’d convinced Ann to ignore Kamoshida’s order to meet up with him at his house later that day.  She wasn’t stupid. Shadow Kamoshida made it very clear as to what Ann would have been expected to do if she’d gone.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann had been half way across Tokyo by the time she had her breakdown.  She’d confessed to Ren, one day in late fall after Shiho had made one last return to the school to make peace with her demons and everything was feeling too heavy for either of them to really comprehend, that if they’d not run into each other that day, or if Ren hadn’t chased her down, that she likely would have given up and gone to meet him like he’d demanded.  That he’d only gone after Shiho after she’d turned him down, in some sort of twisted attempt at getting revenge. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>If Ren stuck around the school to make sure that Shiho didn’t get caught by Kamoshida that day, nobody would be there to stop Ann from making a decision she’d regret.  If she chased after Ann to protect her from Kamoshida and her own demons, nobody would be around to protect Shiho.  She couldn’t be in both places at once, and she refused to choose one over the other.  That wasn’t the Phantom Thief way.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But I do know why.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>---------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ren led Makoto through the upper levels of the school as they made their way towards the gym.  Their destination was a door on the second floor of the practice building, tucked into an out of the way hallway that was away from all of the club rooms.  The door was a big heavy thing, painted red with one of those shiny silver metal push-bars that run the width of the door at just about waist height.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was also locked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shoot,” Ren muttered, pushing up against the bar in vain.  She turned to Makoto and stuck out a hand.  “I need to borrow a bobby pin.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What makes you think I have bobby pins?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Because you told me you always carry at least one on you. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just give it to me.” Beat.  “Please.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Makoto rolled her eyes, but pulled a pin out of her bag.  “More of your… psychic stuff?” She asked, putting a surprising amount of disdain and sarcasm into the last words.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure,” Ren muttered absently, breaking the pin in half at the loop and sticking the ends into the door lock.  “Let’s go with that.  Thanks.”  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Makoto hovered over her shoulder. Ren could feel her eyes on her. “You… know how to pick locks.”  She did that thing where she managed to make it sound like both a question and a statement at the same time, like she wasn’t sure if she should be asking or not but was also too hesitant to make it a direct accusation.  Ren couldn’t help but grin.  Classic Makoto.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Product of a mis-spent youth,” she said, doing her best to put as much sarcasm into it as she could.  She was definitely not doing herself any favors in the ‘trust the criminal’ category. She was betting that once the two of them got through this door, she’d have much more important things to worry about than Ren being able to pick locks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The lock clicked, and Ren gently turned it.  The door unlocked, and swung open.  Ren put a finger to her lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A gust of cold air blew past them.  They could clearly make out the sounds of squeaking shoes on gym flooring, the smack of leather on flesh, grunts and groans, shouting and the occasional whistle.  <em> Perfect </em>.  The volleyball demonstration was tomorrow afternoon, so it only made sense that they’d have a last minute practice.  A gamble, but a calculated one, and she’d always been pretty good at math.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two snuck out onto the catwalk that ran around the outside of the gym up near the roof.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ren had only been here once before, really.  The last day of the school festival, she and the other Phantom Thieves had snuck up to watch Makoto’s attempted interrogation of Akechi in front of the school body.  At best, a mixed day.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The walkway itself ran along the wall, just out of range of the harshest of the pole lights that lit up the gym.  From the bright lower floors of the gym, as long as they didn’t lean out over the railing, they were all but invisible behind the glare.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Whatever Makoto had wanted to say died on her lips as she took in the sight below her.  A net had been set up on the main court, which had a team of boys on either side.  One side also had Kamoshida near the net, whistle around his neck on a lanyard and turning to watch another group of boys who were in a dead sprint around the outside of the gym.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I said keep running until you puke! If I see any of you slow down I’m going to make all of you do it again after!” he shouted at the volleyball players, many of whom looked exhausted and barely limping along even at a distance.  “Now, again!” he barked.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>One of the boys on his side of the court knocked a ball high up into the air as an obvious set.  Before either girl realized what was about to happen, Kamoshida had already lept, smashing a spike directly down into the shoulder of one of the boys on the other side, who cried out in pain as he spun to the floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nobody else in the gym turned to help.  Kamoshida rubbed at his nose.  “Pathetic. Get up and hit the bench. Yasuhiro, get in here!”  The injured player stumbled to his feet, keeping his arm tucked up against his body, and limped over to where a group of boys and girls alike were sitting and doing their best to turn their injuries.  At a distance, Ren counted five black eyes and at least six who would wince in pain when trying to move. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Off in one of the corners, a group of girls from the girls’ team were practicing their sets and spikes, with one putting the ball in the air for another to leap and spike into the gym floor, before rotating out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tellingly, while the boys team was dressed in the school’s athletic outfit of long red pants with a red jacket, the girls team were all wearing tight white tees and red bloomers, the kinds that were high cut at the hips and low along the waist and covered about the same as an overly modest pair of underwear. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This… this can’t be normal practice, right?” Makoto asked.  The closed off, intense look she was so good at was nowhere to be found.  Her hands were in front of her mouth, her eyes as wide as Ren had ever seen them, staring in abject horror at what was happening below.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ren turned back to look at the scene in the gym; Makoto’s look reminded her too much of-- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They show up every practice to the same every time.  Some tell themselves it's the price of winning.  Others are convinced that the abuse is normal. Some have been led to believe that volleyball is all they’re good at, and without it they won’t ever amount to anything.”  Ren’s voice sounded a million miles away to her own ears.  She slipped into a rhythmic cadence, to make it easier to get all of the words out.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They can’t--”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They all know what’s happening is wrong, but what can they do?  They limp through the halls with obvious injuries and their teachers say nothing, ask them nothing about it.  They go home, cover themselves with bandages and ice and down their pain meds and their parents ignore it.  The principal visits during practice, watches them being beaten, and tells Kamoshida to keep up the good work and win another title for the school.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You can’t mean-- The teachers wouldn’t!  Principal Kobayakawa would never...  Surely their parents must...“  Every justification died on Makoto’s lips as she watched what was going on below.  There were too many injuries. Every student had at least one, guy or girl, and most of them were too obvious to be hidden.   </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Everybody knows. Nobody cares.  They’re all too willing to turn the other way to share in the glory of a Nationals win. They tell Kamoshida he’s king, and let him do whatever he wants.  So he goes on doing whatever he wants.  If they tell their parents, Kamoshida hurts them worse.  Stand up to him and he threatens to cut you from the team and deny you a letter of recommendation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s found the weaknesses of every member of the team, something he can use to threaten or bribe or blackmail them into doing what he wants.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How… how could you possibly know that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s trying to do the same with me.  Threatening to spread my criminal record around the school if I don’t join the team.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You? But you’re--” Makoto must have been really off balance, Ren thought, because normally she had more tact than that. She’d be nice and ignore it, this time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tomorrow at the teachers vs students game, he’s going to spike a student directly in the face hard enough that he needs to be taken to the nurse.  Grade two concussion.  A boy.  Second year, in my class.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And the teachers don’t say anything?  Don’t <em> do </em>anything?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s high-fives all around.”  She pitched her voice low, changing up the intonation so it was obvious she was quoting someone only she could hear.   “‘<em> Man, Kamoshida, you’re on fire today </em> ’.  ‘ <em> Alright, let’s get back to the match </em>’.”  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re lying,” Makoto said, but her voice was weak and her hands were shaking.  “You have to be.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The day after, he’s finally bold enough to force the issue with his main target.  She’s been avoiding being alone with him for months, using every excuse she can.  Prior engagements with family. Medical emergencies.  She’s finally run out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who?  I need a name, Kurusu.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s got her phone number and no more patience.  He wants her at his place, wants her body, and she’s out of places to run.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kurusu.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She goes, and he breaks her. She doesn’t, he breaks her best friend instead. Either way, come Friday morning, one of them is on the roof.  It’s a spectacle, all the school can talk about for weeks.  He shrugs his shoulders and finds a new target to focus on.  The cycle begins again.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Yui!”</em> Makoto was hissing , over her shock, and grabbing Ren by the shoulder and shaking.  Ren blinked hard, taking her eyes off the carnage below and coming back to herself.  She realized how unnerving it must have been for Makoto, watching her stare into space while talking about a classmate trying to kill herself as if it was the weather. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a long, long pause as they listened to the sound of gym shoes squeaking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you need me to do?” Makoto asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ren smiled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-----------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sun was just beginning to dip down towards the horizon as Ren stepped off the underground in Shibuya.  There was a little bit of sunlight left, and LeBlanc would be open for another hour or so at least.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She and Makoto had the basis of a plan.  It hadn’t gone nearly the way that she’d expected it to when she’d stepped into the library.  She’d been intending on keeping her being from the future a secret from everyone, and in a way she still had, but now she had Makoto at least willing to humor the idea that she had some sort of psychic powers. For now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was still miles to walk and so many ways for things to go wrong, but at least now she wasn’t alone.  Makoto may not have been exactly the same, but she was still the Makoto that Ren knew in every way that mattered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Queen is dead, long live the Queen.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So instead of returning home immediately, Ren turned, and headed toward the Yamanote line to Shinjuku.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm back. Covid sucks. Sorry for the delay.  </p>
<p>Comments and questions always appreciated.  </p>
<p>Hopefully this is going to be the start of the fun stuff.  After this chapter I'm going to be breaking from entirely Ren's POV to follow other characters a little bit more, which will expand as things begin to snowball because of Ren's changes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Volleyball Rally</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's the day of the volleyball rally.  Ren finally has a moment to just stop. </p><p>This isn't exactly a good thing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Wednesday, the volleyball rally began a half hour after the students returned from lunch.  The students were excused from classes, outfits were changed out, and the gym was set up for the student vs teacher showdown on the volleyball court.  It was all the students were talking about as they filtered out of their classrooms, teachers turning off the lights and closing the doors before joining them in their walk towards the main event.</p><p>In the mass exodus from classroom to practice building, Ren slid away from the crowds and hid out in the bathroom.  Once the halls were clear, Ren made her way back to the now-empty classroom.  </p><p>She’d become more and more aware of exactly how anxious the volleyball rally was making her as the clock had ticked towards its start.  While ostensibly a school rally designed to raise morale for the coming volleyball season and in general bolster a sense of school unity, Ren couldn’t help but see them as a ritualized ego boost for the castle’s resident King.  </p><p>As she’d watched the systematic brutality that Kamoshida was so well-versed in with Makoto yesterday, she’d realized exactly how much the coach was still able to affect her, despite everything that she’d seen as a Phantom Thief.  Kamoshida had been… personal, in a way that no other target except Shido had ever been.  Medjed had been a faceless, unfocused entity, and other targets like Sae or Madarame had deserved their ultimate fates, but had been targets in the abstract of the ‘fight against justice’, rather than a personal grudge. </p><p>Shido, of course, had been the most personal of all of their targets to Ren.  There wasn’t really any competition against the man who had so resolutely ruined her life, ordered the killing and breakdowns of dozens of innocents, and been so impossibly evil that he’d been core to the justification of an evil god’s decision to enslave the human race in cages of apathy.  While that last one would have happened regardless of Shido, the politician didn’t exactly make it hard on Yaldabaoth.</p><p>Kamoshida was different, though, specifically because Kamoshida was a teacher, entrusted with the health and well-being of all of the students in his care.  For all that Kaneshiro and Okumura and the others were distorted, evil, and abusive, on some level for them it had been all about business.  Their acts had, in many ways, been simply a means to an end.</p><p>Kamoshida was a sadist, and a predator.  He hurt others for no other reason than because he could.  The abuse didn’t stem from a desire to ensure victory or as a twisted form of stress relief or any other reason that might contain a sliver of humanity buried deep beneath the twisted rot that made up his personality. Shadow Kamoshida had been very clear;  Kamoshida did what he did because he wanted to, and because he could, and because he enjoyed it.  Senseless, disgusting acts purely for the sake of his own sick sense of pleasure. </p><p>If Ann had chosen differently that day in the castle, with Kamoshida on his knees and begging, Ren could honestly say that she wouldn’t have minded.  </p><p>Her thoughts took a dark turn as she stared out the window from her desk, the open blinds the only source of light in the room.  Dust hung in the sunbeams, which splashed upon the floor and left the room as if the world was on hold.  It was as if time itself had taken a break for the first time since her return to her own past.  It was… peaceful, the silence broken only by the sound of drops on wood.</p><p><em>You’re the leader, Leader! There’s nobody else we’d rather follow</em>.</p><p>
  <em>I guess in the end, it was thanks to you that I could find who I was meant to be.</em>
</p><p><em>You gave me my</em> life <em>back.  I don’t think I could ever do enough to thank you, but I’m going to try.</em></p><p>
  <em>So, what, it’s going to be one last job before retirement? Man, that sounds like a bad cliche.</em>
</p><p><em>Whoa… it’s huge! We have to fight </em>that<em> thing?!</em></p><p><em>Watch out! </em> The sound of a crash, and a body rolling across the concrete.</p><p>Ren was crying, and she couldn’t stop.  She closed her eyes and saw as the other Phantom Thieves fell one by one.  Heard the screams as her memories inexorably pulled her from happy times towards that one moment where she lost everything to save everyone except the people who mattered most.  </p><p>It <em>hurt</em>.  Dear god, it physically hurt.  The back of her arms felt like they’d been dipped in oil and set alight, phantom burns from a fire spell she’d stupidly blocked with her arms to avoid blocking it with her face.  The muscle in her left leg pulsed and twitched rapidly, echoing the spasms brought about by a stray bolt of lightning being in exactly the wrong place at exactly the wrong time. She swore she could feel claws scratching at her back, even though it was flush against the chair</p><p>She grit her teeth.  <em>It isn’t </em>real, she told herself bitterly.  <em>None of those things have </em>happened<em> yet.</em></p><p><em>‘Yet’</em>, her mind responded.</p><p>Ren gasped for breath. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding it. The world was a cacophonous din of her gasping breath, biting sobs, and the voices of her friends and the echoes of her past failures, which came to her unbidden and unwanted.  Yet despite her will they simply would not leave her <em>be</em>.</p><p>Distantly, she heard the sound of the classroom door sliding open.</p><p><em>Rebels who dare defy my rule… You shall perish! </em> And they did.</p><p>The dam broke, and Ren was overwhelmed by memories.</p><p>-------</p><p>As she sat in her seat overlooking the volleyball game from the gym stage, Makoto Niijima was... conflicted.  Yes, conflicted. That was the right word.</p><p>This was, perhaps, something of a new feeling for the honor student, and she was hard-pressed to figure out why.  She was conflicted over things all of the time, like trying to figure out what Sis would like for dinner or worrying that she wasn’t spending enough time studying on the days she decided to take a break.</p><p>Okay, so they weren’t great debates on which hung the fate of her entire future, but they still counted!  She just… never really had to deal with big questions and big problems before, was all.  </p><p>Everything in her life made a sort of plastic sense.  Help the students who came to her in the student council, few as they were. (In fact, Yui Kurusu had been the first and so far only one.)  Spend her time studying hard and get into a good school so she could help out Sis after she graduated.  Listen to the teachers and the principal when they needed her help, because, well, that was her <em>job</em>.  It was what she was supposed to do.</p><p>A small voice negged that being conflicted was so new to her because everyone else made all of the important decisions for her, which was so obviously wrong that she wasn’t even going to give the thought the gravity of acknowledgement. </p><p>Still, she <em>was</em> conflicted, and it was easy for her to understand why.  Yui Kurusu was… an enigma.  As Student Council President, Principal Kobayakawa had pulled her aside and made sure she knew about the incoming delinquent with the criminal record that the school had agreed to take in.  She’d asked why, of course, but she’d been dismissed without an answer.</p><p>Come to think of it, Mr. Kamoshida and Ms. Kawakami had been in the room with Principal Kobayakawa for that discussion. Ms. Kawakami made sense, what with Yui being in her homeroom, but… why had Mr. Kamoshida been included? </p><p>There was a *<em>toing*</em> as a volleyball was served up from the student team’s side for the teachers, and Makoto watched it lazily arc over the net.  One of the first year teachers who hadn’t been here two years prior pushed it up near the net, at which point Mr. Kamoshida (with a fairly large run-up at it), lept and smashed it ball back over, bouncing off the ground between the players faster than any of them could react.  There were claps and low-fives all around on the teachers sides as a student collected the ball from where it had bounced to.</p><p>It had been going that way for most of the game, oddly enough.  The students were putting up an okay fight, but they were losing, badly. More than that, though, was the fact that Makoto hadn’t seen a single teacher other than Mr. Kamoshida return the ball more than once or twice.  This wasn’t… <em>wrong</em>, per say, but something about the whole event left her disquieted.</p><p>Everyone on the court was deferring to Mr. Kamoshida, mostly in small and subtle ways that she would have missed if she hadn’t known to be looking for it.  The teachers were content to take all of their cues from the volleyball coach, and the volleyball team itself seemed to be ever so slightly slower when Mr. Kamoshida made one of his big and flashy moves, which seemed to be ‘often’.  </p><p>Yui had described it as a ritual for sating Mr. Kamoshida’s ego, a concept that Makoto had found somewhat funny at the time. This, though… there wasn’t anything funny about this.  </p><p>Then the ball, back to the student’s side for a serve, arced high through the air and Makoto could feel <em>something </em>shift.  She barely resisted leaping to her feet as she watched the ball, barely having cleared the top of the net, meet Mr. Kamoshida’s leaping hand and smash back down towards the volleyball team.</p><p>It should have been like any of the dozens of other spikes from earlier.  And then it hit the server square in the face.  A hand flew up to cover her mouth.</p><p>Makoto didn’t know his name, but she felt sympathy for him anyway.  The collision had been <em>violent</em>.  The ball bounced high off his head, rolling off against a wall where a number of students were sitting.  The boy, however…</p><p>
  <em>‘...he’s going to spike a student directly in the face…’</em>
</p><p>His head snapped back on impact, the blow knocking him unsteady on his feet.  After a second, though, he toppled backwards, and if it hadn’t been so serious, it almost would have looked comedic.  But it was serious.</p><p>‘<em>...grade two concussion…’</em>  </p><p>Makoto had looked up their symptoms once she got home yesterday.  Headaches, nausea, ringing of the ears, dizziness, potential memory loss, and even potential amnesia in the worst cases.  </p><p>The gym was silent, as the students realized something serious had happened and their conversations trailed off.  Everyone was staring, but, Makoto realized, nobody was <em>moving</em>.  Even the teachers were standing around looking, rather than making any sort of effort to help, presumably too shocked by the accident to actually do anything. Makoto found herself irrationally disappointed in them. </p><p>She was five seconds away from standing and doing what nobody else would whe Mr. Kamoshida sniffed and walked under the net.  The way he carried himself was wrong to Makoto in a way she couldn’t put into words.  He didn’t exactly seem satisfied or happy with the turn of events, thank god, but he also didn’t exactly seem apologetic or concerned.  </p><p>...there wasn’t any urgency in his step.  That’s what it was, Makoto realized.  He didn’t run, or even walk quickly towards the other side of the net.  It was a calm and leisurely walk that wouldn’t have looked out of place if he’d been walking through the halls of the school, rather than checking on an injured student.</p><p>“You two,” he gestured at a pair of students off on the side of the court, and at least his tone matched the gravity of the situation.  “Take him to the nurse.” </p><p>The students ran over, lifted the boy up onto his feet, and walked him towards the exit doors.  He was technically stepping under his own power, but Makoto didn’t like the way that his arms had to hang around the ‘volunteers’ necks for support, or how his head was lolling.  He wasn’t covered in blood, though, so his nose probably wasn’t broken, at least.  </p><p>‘<em>...grade two concussion…</em>’  Makoto resolved to go check up on him after this.  She’d just get in the way of the nurse if she went now, and besides, as Student Council President, she wasn’t supposed to leave until the game was over anyway.</p><p>‘<em>...alright, let’s get back to the match…’</em></p><p>One of the students by the wall, a boy with brilliantly blonde hair she would be able to pick out of any crowd, tossed the ball back to Kamoshida, who tucked it under an arm.  “Alright!” he called suddenly, all smiles and energy, “let’s get back to the match!”</p><p>Yui had told her to expect this, but… a part of Makoto felt sick.</p><p>
  <em>‘...man, Kamoshida, you’re on fire today…’</em>
</p><p>“Man, Kamoshida,” the first year teacher Makoto didn’t recognize said, slapping Kamoshida on the back, “you’re on fire today!” The other teachers crowded around, giving their congratulations and praise onto the man who might have just sent one of their students to the hospital.  </p><p>Play didn’t immediately resume, as the student team had to bring in a new sixth member to round them out. Makoto noticed that Mr. Kamoshida seemed particularly interested in someone, because during the entire set-up after sending the boy off, his gaze had returned to a girl in one of the chairs lining the far side of the court.  </p><p>With her fluffy blonde pigtails, she was very visually distinctive.  She seemed to notice Mr. Kamoshida staring at about the same moment, because she snapped her head away and glared into a wall, crossing her arms in front of herself.  Makoto didn’t know the girl’s name, but she was relatively certain of one thing. </p><p>She’d just found Yui Kurusu’s jumper.</p><p>----------------------</p><p>It’s hard to put into words exactly what Ren felt as she came back to herself.  Saying that she awoke was wrong; she hadn’t been asleep.  And it wasn’t quite as if she was missing a bunch of memories, as though she had amnesia. She had crossed distance to get to where she was, obviously, because her first conscious thought after her episode in the classroom was,</p><p>
  <em>‘How did I get to the roof?’</em>
</p><p>If she focused she could pull flashes of sounds and sensations from the last few minutes.  A soft voice, a delicate hand in her own, the sound of shoes on concrete steps… they were all there.  And yet, it was as though anything more concrete slipped from her grasp, like fish in a river. The tighter she tried to grab onto them, the more they fled from her. </p><p>She was sitting on one of the chairs that she and Ryuji and Ann had used the first time around, which had been pulled out into the open and away from the walls.  She relaxed her hands, noting that they’d been clenched so tight that there were eight little crescent-moon shaped white marks where her nails had dug into her skin.  She flexed a hand, wincing as the joints popped.  </p><p>“Oh my, you’re back!” </p><p>Ren knew that voice.  She turned, and met a pair of warm brown eyes full of concern.</p><p>‘<em>Haru…’</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Calm Before</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Two conversations of varying importance.  Makoto makes a possibly poor decision, and Ren realizes that somewhere along the line, she forgot about an important piece of information.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nobody was only ‘one thing’.  Ren understood that well enough.</p>
<p>People were, as a rule, a complex and multifaceted collection of attributes and memories and experiences that could never be summed up by a single word or descriptor.  Nobody was <em> just </em> ‘mean’ or ‘smart’ or ‘pretty’, and attempting to put people into a box like that was something that was always bound to fail.</p>
<p>Even still, it wouldn’t have been completely unfair to state that every member of the Phantom Thieves had a role within their little group.  They were friends first, but second each member seemed to have carved out their own niche within the team.  Like how Ryuji was the brash one, who excelled on his strength and had a uniquely Skull skill of being able to recognize when the time for talking and planning was past and the time for action was all that was left.  Or how Makoto was the ‘planner’, or Futaba was the ‘smart one’.  </p>
<p>(Not to say that the rest of the thieves weren’t smart, of course.  You don’t run circles around the government by being stupid, after all.  Futaba was just <em> extra </em> in a way that, say, Yusuke or Morgana or Ren wasn’t.)</p>
<p>Each and everyone brought a talent or attribute to the team that couldn’t be substituted by any of the others.  Haru’s, though, was something that the team hadn’t even realized they’d lacked until she’d quite literally lept into their lives.</p>
<p>Haru was <em> kind </em>.  She was pure in a way that none of the other Phantom Thieves quite were, again not that they were any lesser for it.  But where Morgana could decipher cryptic cognitive codes and metaphors with a glance, Haru had a seemingly infinite wellspring of compassion to be freely given to anyone who was willing to accept it.  </p>
<p>In a world of cognition, metaphors ruled.  And on that point, it hadn’t escaped Ren’s notice about the exact details of <em> how </em> Haru had awoken to her powers.  Rebellion is, by its very nature, a selfish act.  Makoto bucking the weight of expectations, Ryuji declaring that he’d no longer let people walk all over him, Yusuke resolving to no longer lie to himself.  Although the Phantom Thieves existed to help people, and draw magnanimity out of that type of selfishness, to some extent each member got their start with a personal resolve to buck others’ for their own sakes.  Even Ren helping Ryuji had been flavored with a streak of proving to herself that it hadn’t been wrong to help out the woman Shido was assaulting at the time.  (It was also definitely to help Ryuji, though.  Two things could be true at the same time, after all.)</p>
<p>Which is why, in retrospect, Haru had always impressed the hell out of Ren.  While her true power hadn’t awoken before her personal vow of betrayal, she had forced herself half awake solely on the power of trying to help the employees of her father’s company.  It wasn’t anything like what any of the other thieves had done, and while Haru had been uniquely positioned with outside help from a run-away Morgana, that hardly diminished her accomplishment.  </p>
<p>The Thieves had been ‘kind’ without Haru.  They had been good.  There hadn’t been any grand running away from a darker nature that the addition of Noir had saved them from.  It hadn’t been that storybook and even the cognitive world didn’t quite work like that.  But Haru had very quickly established herself as the heart of the team, and none of the other members ever forgot it.  </p>
<p>Sitting on the roof of the school, staring at Haru’s warm eyes, Ren was once again reminded of exactly why that was.  Just seeing her, dressed in the red and white tracksuit of Shujin Academy, Ren was already beginning to feel like everything would be okay.  She smiled.</p>
<p>“Hello.” <em> Hello again, Haru </em>.  </p>
<p>---------------</p>
<p>As soon as the volleyball rally let out, Makoto was out of her chair and into the halls like a shot.  When she’d followed the new girl up to the walkways above the gym the day before, she’d done so half expecting some sort of trick.  She hadn’t exactly known what <em> type </em> of trick, but never-the-less she’d suspected there was some form of trick involved.  </p>
<p>Given that she had been told that Yui Kurusu was a delinquent with a criminal record, it was both an easy and a logical conclusion.</p>
<p>Or at least, it had been.  What Makoto had most certainly <em> not </em> been told was that Yui Kurusu looked less like a hardened thug with a knife and more like a pixie who had stumbled her way out of the mushroom circle.  The girl barely looked like she could have been a danger to a puppy, much less a student. It had only been that fact, combined with the point that, as student council president she was technically required to help <em> any </em> student in need, that had led to her agreeing to follow the girl to the gym.</p>
<p>...the fact that she knew aikido and Yui looked like she was less than a hundred pounds soaking wet had also played into it, a little.  </p>
<p>She hadn’t slept well last night.  Anxiety and a lingering feeling of helplessness had kept her pacing through the den late into the night, and when she closed her eyes she could hear a combination of the yells of pain and the dead, lifeless monotone that the younger girl had so matter-of-factly described what amounted to systematic abuse and predation by a teacher. </p>
<p>Yui Kurusu had claimed to be psychic in their meeting.  Makoto had doubted it then, and to be honest, she still somewhat doubted it leaving the gym.  Psychics didn’t <em> exist </em>.  Everyone knew that.  The supernatural was, in her sister’s words, the work of cons and charlatans who preyed on people who were too desperate or simple to know better.  There was always a trick to these types of things. Always.</p>
<p>If only Makoto could <em> figure out what it was </em>.</p>
<p>Yui Kurusu had been a student for less than forty eight hours when she walked into the library that afternoon.  She’d been an attending student for less than fifteen.  There hadn’t been any sort of complaints about her, or even any stand-out incidents that she could have been a part of.  While Makoto couldn’t speak to the friends that Kurusu may or may not have made in the last two days, she found it unlikely that she’d have gotten close enough with anyone who could have passed the info on to her.  </p>
<p>If it had been a disgruntled student who was tired of the abuse, why tell it to a brand new student rather than the student council? Or another teacher?  Kurusu had implied that everyone had already known, but, well… <em> she </em> certainly hadn’t!  </p>
<p>...admittedly, she’d only been student council president for a few days, but...</p>
<p>And yet, somehow, despite the seeming impossibility of her knowledge, Yui Kurusu had <em> known </em> what was going on.  It hadn’t been a guess or a feeling.  Kurusu had presented the details as fact, and the more that Makoto saw as the game went on, the more she had a sinking feeling that Kurusu was <em> right </em>.  </p>
<p>...which left the elephant in the room.  Kurusu hadn’t just known what was happening.  She’d known what was <em> going to happen </em>, and that was itself a much more difficult problem to grapple with.  </p>
<p>If the problem of knowing about Kamoshida’s potential abuse was a problem with a tricky solution, then the problem of her knowing about events that hadn’t <em> happened </em> yet were a locked-door murder mystery.  Something that, on the face of it, was absolutely impossible, but must have a logical solution unless you wanted to accept ‘magic’ as a viable alternative.  She wasn’t quite at that level yet.</p>
<p>Her father had talked to both her and Sae once, about confidence games and how they worked.  She’d read up on them in the library earlier that morning.  Psychic games were a well-established form of ‘mentalism’, which should have been enough to end it.  Except that in mentalism games, the future predictions were always vague enough that they could be met by any of a dozen likely possible actions, short-term in the range of minutes which could be influenced by the con artist, or were cold-reading tricks involving the ‘plans’ of a target rather than the actual future. Kurusu’s prophecy had been none of those.  </p>
<p>She’d not been given a name, but she’d given enough that identifying Yuuki Mishima had been trivial.  And then things had played out exactly like Kurusu said they would.  </p>
<p>So, tentatively, she was willing to accept that there might <em> possibly </em> be more to Yui Kurusu than met the eye.  Whether or not she believed in her ‘psychic powers’ was irrelevant in the short term; she’d be foolish to ignore the things that she’d already verified herself.  Which meant that there was only one place that she could go, given the urgent nature of the situation.  </p>
<p>She knocked on the door she found herself outside of minutes later. </p>
<p>“Come in,” a voice called from within.  Makoto did.</p>
<p>“Hello, Ms. Niijima.  What can I do for you today?</p>
<p>“Principal Kobayakawa, there’s something important that has been brought to my attention…”</p>
<p>---------</p>
<p>“I’m--” <em> Ren Amamiya </em>“Yui Kurusu.  How… did I get here?” </p>
<p>Haru smiled, ticking her head to one side.  “My name is Haru.  I found you in one of the classrooms.”  The smile faded, and Haru looked at her in concern.  “You… seemed to be in a great deal of distress, so I led you up here.”</p>
<p>Ren felt her cheeks heat up.  There was an irrational hatred there about appearing weak in front of another member of the Thieves.  She swallowed her shame.  “Thanks. I don’t really know what happened.” she eventually said, because Haru had done her a kindness. </p>
<p>Apparently, though, Haru didn’t strictly see it that way, because she quickly shook her head.  “Oh, no, please don’t.  Honestly,” and Haru was doing that thing where she was looking down and looking a little bit like someone had insulted her dog.  “I didn’t really do anything.  When I couldn’t get you to respond, I thought that maybe some fresh air would help, so I brought you up here.  But it didn’t help, so all I could do was wait.”  She brushed her hands on her sweatpants, and Ren noticed the dirt slake off them.  She must have been gardening to pass the time.</p>
<p>Ren looked around Haru at the far end of the roof, where a pair of wooden planter boxes had been set up.  The first time around, she and Ryuji and Ann had barely paid them any mind, content to camp out on the sheet metal ducting and old desks that had been stashed away on the roof.  By the time that any summer plants had presumably grown, the three of them (plus Morgana) had moved their hideout to the overpass at Shibuya, and they’d been out of mind until late into the fall when Haru officially joined the team.  </p>
<p>“Do you garden, Haru?  ...Haru-senpai, I mean?”  </p>
<p>“Please.  Haru’s fine.”</p>
<p>“Haru, then.”  At least she wouldn’t mess that up anymore, Ren thought.</p>
<p>-----------</p>
<p>“I recently received a report from an anonymous student about a matter that I thought best to bring to your attention as soon as possible,” Makoto reported.  </p>
<p>“Oh?” Principal Kobayakawa asked, setting down his pen on his desk.  “Certainly,” he agreed genially.  “However, student matters are primarily the responsibility of the Student Council, so I’m not entirely certain what help I can be.” </p>
<p>“I understand that, sir,” Makoto said, doing her best to project the quiet confidence of her sister.  “However, in this case I do think that the information I have to share is very much something the school should be concerned about.”</p>
<p>Principal Kobayakawa narrowed his eyes, giving Makoto his full attention.  </p>
<p>“I’m listening.”</p>
<p>--------</p>
<p>“Do you garden, Haru?”  Ren asked, already knowing the answer.  She was doing that a <em> lot </em> recently, and wasn’t sure how much she liked it.  </p>
<p>“Oh, yes!” and just like that, Haru’s smile was back. Ren could literally feel it chase away her nerves.  “It might be my favorite hobby, actually.  But I don’t have the space for it at home, so one of my professors from last year agreed to let me continue a project I started last fall up here on the roof instead.  I’m quite grateful.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Ren said, smiling as she watched Haru talk about something she cared about.  It really was quite easy to see the shift, as Haru quite effortlessly lit up.  </p>
<p><em> Tell her </em> , a voice inside Ren seemed to say.  <em> Tell her about Kamoshida.  She’d be willing to help.  You know she would </em>.</p>
<p>Of course she would.  Haru’s boundless compassion was for anyone who was suffering, not just for her friends.  Kamoshida was ultimately a small fish in a very small pond here at the school, but he was well entrenched enough and surrounded by enough ostensibly powerful people in the situation that he was still a threat for a burgeoning team with only one true member and one assistant.  </p>
<p>Ren and Makoto’s efforts to thwart Kamoshida’s early maneuvering would have benefited from a third assistant, especially one with the compassion that Haru could bring.  </p>
<p>And yet, every time Ren opened her mouth to say something about it, nothing came out.  </p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Haru asked, around the third or fourth time Ren failed to ask her question.  She couldn’t help but notice the concern in Haru’s gaze.  “Your hands are trembling.”</p>
<p>Ren checked.  They were. So she did the only thing she could, in that moment.  </p>
<p>She shook her head.</p>
<p>------</p>
<p>“You must realize that what you are saying is absurd, Ms. Niijima.”  </p>
<p>“Sir, I’ve seen the evidence myself.  The injuries of the volleyball team are not standard sporting incidents.  I’ve seen one of their practices!” </p>
<p>“So have I,” Principal Kobayakawa said, shaking his head. “And I assure you that there is nothing wrong with them.</p>
<p>“You… you’ve seen them?”  He’d seen the cruelty and the blatant attacks and done <em> nothing </em>?!</p>
<p>“Of course. I’ve sat in on several over the past few years. They’re how Shujin maintain dominance over the National competitions.”  There was an unmistakable lilt to his voice that Makoto could recognize anywhere.  She heard it whenever Sis talked about one of the cases she’d won.  </p>
<p>It was pride.</p>
<p>----------------</p>
<p>Ren grasped the back of one hand with the other, trying to get them to stop shaking.  Haru crouched down in front of where Ren was sitting, and took Ren’s hands in hers.  They were warm.</p>
<p>“It’s okay,” Haru said, voice soft.  “You’re okay.” </p>
<p>Ren nodded.  She didn’t feel like there was any risk of losing herself again.  She just… couldn’t make her hands stop trembling, and couldn’t figure out why.  But she wasn’t lying when she said, “I’m okay.  I know.” </p>
<p>Haru didn’t quite look like she believed her, but she let it go, and Ren was thankful for that. </p>
<p>“My father will be here soon to pick me up,” Haru said, noting the time.  “But I’m up here pretty often after school, to tend to the garden. Please, join me whenever you like.”</p>
<p>“I can’t imagine I’ve been the best company,” Ren said, quirking a small smile.  “But thank you.  I can walk you down, if you like? I should be making my way out as well.” </p>
<p>Grabbing her bag (Haru must have brought it up with her when she’d brought Ren to the roof), Ren and Haru left the roof. </p>
<p>----------------</p>
<p>“What he’s doing is illegal!” Makoto exclaimed, letting heat and frustration creep into her voice for the first time in the conversation.  She couldn’t believe this was the turn the conversation had taken.  Principal Kobayakawa seemed to be actively coming up with reasons to avoid listening to her!  </p>
<p>Principal Kobayakawa steepled his fingers on his desk.</p>
<p>“Kamoshida isn’t doing anything wrong, and I won’t hear a word against him.” He sighed, sitting back in his chair.  “Honestly, Makoto, I thought you better than this.”</p>
<p>“S-sir?” Makoto asked, clearly taken aback.  <em> What? </em></p>
<p>“You were made student council president because it was hoped that you could live up to the legacy of your sister, and take care of the actual issues around the school rather than chasing nonsense.”  </p>
<p>But, Sae was… Makoto took a physical step back.  </p>
<p>“But this is--!”  Once again, she was interrupted.</p>
<p>“Shujin Academy only gives letters of recommendations to the best of the best.  Our recommendations can be the difference between making it into your first choice of college or not at all.  You do understand what I’m saying, yes?”</p>
<p>And with that, Makoto understood.  She was being threatened.  Yui Kurusu had been right again.  Kobayakawa knew, and did nothing. </p>
<p>“...Absolutely.”</p>
<p>“Very good. Was there anything else you needed?”</p>
<p>Makoto hadn’t felt this talked down to since she was a child, getting lectured by her father for stealing cookies before dinner. </p>
<p>“No, sir.”</p>
<p>“Then you can see yourself out,” Kobayakawa said, picking up his pen and going back to his documents. </p>
<p>Makoto turned sharply on her heel and fled the room.</p>
<p>--------------</p>
<p>There was a very fancy looking silver car just outside the gates of Shujin by the time Haru and Ren left the building.  It wasn’t a limo, but it wasn’t terribly far off that either.  With the rally long over, most of the students had already gone home for the day, and the grounds were all but abandoned.  </p>
<p>A window in the back rolled down as the pair of them approached.  Haru’s father sat in the back.</p>
<p><em> What was it with bad guys and cars? </em> Ren wondered.  First with Kamoshida and Ann, and this whole set-up with Kunikazu Okumura was oddly reminiscent of the first meeting between the original four Phantom Thieves (plus Yusuke) and Madarame in the back of <em> his </em> car.  She just found it a weird coincidence.  </p>
<p>Okumura barely turned to glance at Ren before dismissing her, glancing instead at Haru out of the corner of his eye.  “Haru,” he said simply.</p>
<p>Haru held an arm in front of herself, and Ren could literally feel her begin to shrink back into herself.  “Father…” </p>
<p>There were no further words, as the mirrored window simply rolled back up to dictate the end of the conversation.  Haru sighed slightly, and turned to give Ren the smallest of smiles.  </p>
<p>“Be safe,” she said, before walking around and climbing into the car.  </p>
<p><em> You too </em>, Ren thought, staring holes through Okumura the Elder through the reflective glass.  For just a moment, Ren imaged she could see her new self in her old coat and mask mirrored in the glass.  Then it was gone, along with the car.  </p>
<p>Ren watched the car until it turned a corner at the end of the street and disappeared from view.  At some point, she realized she’d been joined by another as the car drove off.</p>
<p>“You were right,” Makoto said suddenly, from behind Ren.  She could hear the restrained anger in the president’s voice.  </p>
<p>“Oh?” Ren asked, turning away from the road to meet red eyes.  Makoto had the look that Ren recognized as the precursor to her Queen Gaze on.  </p>
<p>“Both about the game and about the principal.  I went to report to him after the rally ended.  I couldn’t-- I had to--”  She clenched her eyes closed and a fist tight, looking away. Ren realized she should have expected this.</p>
<p>“You had to try and give him a chance to show that he was a responsible adult,” Ren prompted gently, which only got an angry nod in return.  Dammit.  Kobayakawa had the potential to complicate matters.  Although the man was feckless to the extreme, he had just enough contacts and lacked just enough sense to have the potential to be extremely dangerous.  </p>
<p>Frustration tears began to bead at the corners of Makoto’s eyes.  She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Makoto agreed, voice low.  Ren let the silence hang.</p>
<p>She would have been lying if she’d said that she couldn’t understand what Makoto had been thinking to go to the principal.  A mistrust of authority and those in positions of power was one of the founding principles of the thieves, but it was the exact opposite of the core principles of <em> Makoto </em>.  A trust in authorities to an almost self-destructive level had been one of pre-Queen Makoto’s defining traits that had brought her into the rebel’s sphere of influence.  </p>
<p>For the last few days, Ren had been viewing things through the lens of a battle between her and Kamoshida.  Acquiring allies, thwarting plans, and working towards the same downfall that had taken the man down the first time through.  In her head, a large part of that was expecting the future member of the Phantom Thieves to be true to the natures they’d nurtured over the previous year.  Problem was, Makoto <em> wasn’t </em> Queen.  Not yet, at least.  Her faith in the expertise and good nature of those in positions of power hadn’t yet been broken.  Of <em> course </em> she’d go to Kobayakawa before taking measures into her own hands.  </p>
<p>In a number of very significant ways, this Makoto wasn’t the Makoto she was so familiar with anymore.  Somewhere along the line, she’d forgotten that.  </p>
<p>“Tomorrow is going to be difficult,” she said instead.  Makoto nodded, resolve face on.  </p>
<p>“I’m ready.” </p>
<p>And that was good enough for Ren. </p>
<p>-------</p>
<p>Up in his office, Kobayakawa set down his pen, put the documents into the out drawer on the corner of his desk.  Standing, he turned to stare at the trophy case that dominated the wall next to his desk, and the numerous awards arranged within.</p>
<p>
  <em>It seems I'll need to keep a closer eye on Ms. Niijima.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I said I'd be faster and then I spent 3 weeks writing the next chapter.  This is very much not where I wanted to be right now.  Let's see if I can at least get to the metaverse before mid October (that'd be chapter 12, for those keeping score)</p>
<p>Comments are always welcome. I'm happy to strike up a conversation about pretty much anything.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Operation Start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ren found Makoto, clutching at the straps of her bag, as she lingered outside the school gates the next morning.</p><p>“Relax,” she said by way of greeting.</p><p>Makoto frowned, tense. “I’m not sure how you can be so flippant about this.”</p><p>“Are you planning on letting anything happen?”</p><p>“O-of course not!” Makoto spluttered, outraged.</p><p>“Neither will I. So there’s nothing to worry about.”</p><p>In truth, Ren was absolutely not as calm as she appeared. To Makoto, the stakes were high: The possible suicide of a student was not ever something anyone should play around with. Failure could mean that come Saturday, Shujin would be down a student, and it would be their fault.</p><p>To Ren, there was an added level that Makoto was unaware of. The plan to save Shiho would be the first attempt to change a major event from the original timeline. A failure would not only lead to Shiho back up on the roof, but would be a gigantic metaphorical dagger to the heart of Ren’s entire purpose in returning to the past.</p><p>Returning to April had been giving up success against a mad god and trading the continuing safety of seven billion people for the lives of only seven. That meant that, quite obviously, failure was absolutely not an option. Failure right out of the gate would not bode well for a second salvation of the human race.</p><p>...and also, if she failed, she didn’t think she’d be able to face Ann ever again.</p><p>No, now that they knew and had a plan to prevent it, failure was not an option.</p><p>So yes, she was nervous. Probably more than Makoto was. But being a leader had been baked into her DNA over the past nine months, and part of being a leader was being the rock that your team could rally around. She had to project confidence, because if she didn’t think that they’d succeed, how could she expect Makoto to believe it too?</p><p>“That isn’t how this works! There are a number of factors that--”</p><p>“Makoto,” Ren interrupted. “Relax.”</p><p>The student council president narrowed her eyes at being interrupted, and if Ren hadn’t spent the last nine months being on the receiving end of a much more frightening version of the same look, it might have affected her. But the pressure she was holding her bag with lessened, and Ren considered it a win.</p><p>“Are we ready to start?” Ren asked, instead of commenting on it.</p><p>--------------------------------------------------</p><p>
  <em>“What do you need me to do?” Makoto had asked. Given how poor an idea it would have been to discuss their plans in the same room as the target, Makoto had led Ren back to the student council room.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“First and foremost,” Ren started, “We need names. Did I say anything that might have given you a clue as to who I was talking about?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Makoto put a hand to her chin. “Not particularly, unfortunately. Two girls, obviously. A few other small details, but nothing that causes a name to jump out at me immediately. Our best bet would be to observe Mr. Kamoshida. If he’s as obsessed as you said, his actions should tell us everything we need to know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Brilliant,” Ren said, bitter. She already knew the names, but she’d started this lie with the implication that she didn’t, so she’d have to keep it to herself until she could ‘learn it’ from another source. She made a note to make her fake predictions more specific in the future. “That might be on you, then.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Me?” Makoto asked, surprised.</em>
</p><p>-----------------------------------------------</p><p>“I think I have a name,” Makoto said, as an answer.</p><p>“So do I,” Ren said. The urge to comment that the names were Makoto and Ren-- Yui was very strong. She resisted. Barely.</p><p>She’d save the snark for when Makoto was a little more comfortable with the pressure. She doubted her sense of humor would be appreciated right at that moment.</p><p>“It seems that while Mr. Kamoshida has at least a passing interest in a number of students, his primary focus seems to be Ann Takamaki.”</p><p>Ren was surprised, although on second thought realized that she probably shouldn’t have been. Makoto was the one in charge of strategy for a reason. And Kamoshida wasn’t particularly subtle in his lusts, either.</p><p>“Good. That makes the friend Suzui Shiho, which checks out with what I’ve got.”</p><p>“Suzui…” Makoto muttered to herself, thinking it over. Ren could see the gears turning in her head at full speed. Connections were being made and conclusions were being drawn in that way that was so quintessentially Queen that it was almost painful to watch. Ren could read the creases in Makoto’s brow and the twitching of her hands, though. If we are wrong... they read.</p><p>Even knowing they weren’t wrong, Ren could sympathize with the thought.</p><p>Ren caught a glimpse of Makoto’s free hand, the one not grasping onto the strap of her bag. It was twitching fingers against the fabric of her skirt, tapping against her leg. She was anxious.</p><p>“...I’ve got to go,” Makoto said, as the two of them turned and walked through the school gates. “I’ve already requested Takamaki-san meet with me this morning before class. Can you handle Suzui-san?”</p><p>There was something about the phrasing there that bugged Ren. Handle. It didn’t feel great to Ren, but she understood what Makoto meant. It was that feeling that struck her, in that moment as the two of them ascended the stairs to the front doors of Shujin, exactly how out of their depth the two of them should have been.</p><p>Ren was cheating. Ren had nearly toppled the entire Japanese government before. Ren’s nerves came not from the scale but from the stakes, having seen what had become of Suzui Shiho when they had failed the first time around. Makoto had not.</p><p>Being asked to ‘handle’ Shiho was innocent from Makoto, but it felt very… clinical. And Ren knew it wasn’t. Makoto fundamentally cared about people; she wouldn’t have been working with Ren if she didn’t. She wouldn’t be student council president if she didn’t. Makoto didn’t do clinical. Methodical, yes. Intellectual, absolutely.</p><p>The disconnect came because Makoto lacked the ability to even discuss what they were about to do, because the two of them were so far out of their depth that it wasn’t even funny. Ren was comfortable with this, but she would be willing to put down money that Makoto was thinking even as they walked towards the doors that this should not have been their job. That the adults should have had this handled.</p><p>But they didn’t. They couldn’t. That was the whole purpose of the Phantom Thieves to begin with.</p><p>“Well, well. Look who it is!” A voice called out, stopping the two girls in their tracks and pulling Ren out of her introspection.</p><p>Suguru Kamoshida strode up from behind them, beaming smile on his face. Ren wanted to punch it.</p><p>----------------</p><p>
  <em>“You said that this whole thing started because of a phone number,” Makoto said. She put a hand to her chin. “Wouldn’t it make sense that we could stop this whole thing by just… making sure that Mr. Kamoshida doesn’t get his hands on it?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That… was actually a good point. Ren hadn’t even thought to try and approach the idea from that angle.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It wouldn’t make any sense for him to get the number and then wait on it, so we can probably assume that whoever the girl is, he gets their number either the day of or the day before,” Makoto said. She let out a little whine of annoyance. “I don’t suppose you have any idea when exactly he gets the phone number, do you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Unfortunately not,” Ren shook her head.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How about how?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Nothing on that, either.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In the young days of the Phantom Thieves, after they’d dealt with Kamoshida but before they’d officially voted to continue the group in that hotel buffet, when the party was full of nervous energy and a lack of direction, the four of them had discussed the idea of going after whoever had leaked Ann’s phone number to Kamoshida.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It hadn’t been a particularly serious discussion; more the venting of bereaved teenagers who wanted to do something while anxiously waiting to see if Kamoshida had truly had a change of heart. It definitely hadn’t ever gotten past the planning stages, partially because Ren and Morgana agreed that it was unlikely that the ‘target’ would have had a palace to begin with, partially because the four of them were still laying low, and almost entirely because none of them had any idea how it had actually happened.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kamoshida obviously wasn’t talking, and Ann didn’t have any idea where he could have gotten her number to begin with. Shiho had it, obviously, there was a zero chance that she had given it up. Beyond that, though, Ann didn’t usually go around giving out her phone number to strangers, and she didn’t really have many other friends. Ryuji’s thought, a rather clever one actually that Kamoshida had approached her parents in his role of a teacher, fell through largely because her parents had been in America for the last several months and weren’t in the habit of handing out their only daughter’s phone number to strange men.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was far more likely that Kamoshida had realized that it was on file with someone in the school, something Ann was not able to completely discount, than there was some shady black market phone number swapping scheme in the Shujin underground, but they hadn’t even known where to begin to start in trying to track things down.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then Kamoshida crashed the school assembly, volunteering to kill himself, and then turned himself into the police. In all the chaos that followed the plan was forgotten in favor of taking down Madarame instead. The mystery of exactly how Kamoshida got Ann’s phone number was ultimately forgotten, and went unsolved.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...well, if nothing else we can call that Plan A.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>----------------</em>
</p><p>“O-oh! Mr. Kamoshida, g-good morning,” Makoto said, bowing slightly. Ren clutched at the strap of her bag hard enough her knuckles popped. Neither of the others seemed to notice.</p><p>“Now, now, none of that. I see you’ve already taken the new transfer student under your wing.” He grinned so big that Ren was certain she swore light bounce off his teeth. The urge to punch rose. “Such an overachieving student council president you are, eh?”</p><p>“Well,” Makoto deflected, sounding somewhat uncomfortable. “She just… had some questions about the layout of the school, is all.”</p><p>“Oh, did she now?” Neither Ren nor Makoto missed the sense of malice that came with the question.</p><p>There was a long pause, and the dark aura seemed to abate somewhat.</p><p>“Well, it’s hardly any of my business, anyway,” he said with a shrug, grin returning. “New girl, hope you’ve considered my offer. Time is ticking, after all. Who knows when all the spots will be full?”</p><p>With that he walked past them into the school. The two girls watched him go.</p><p>“...he seemed happy,” Ren observed. The fact that he’d still managed to slip in a threat even with Makoto listening in was not lost on either of them.</p><p>Makoto let out a small noise of defeat. “I think we just lost our chance at plan A.”</p><p>“On to plan B?”</p><p>“On to plan B.”</p><p>-----------</p><p>
  <em>“So what’s Plan B?” Ren asked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Makoto drummed her fingers on the desk, thinking hard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I… I don’t know,” she admitted, frowning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“A friend of mine always used to say that planning was done in three steps.” Makoto sat up and listened as Ren prepared to recycle more of her future knowledge.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“First,” Ren said seriously, holding up a finger. “Think to yourself, ‘what do I have?’ Anything that you have could be a possible asset. Don’t just look at the obvious, think about the small things, or the things you can’t touch. Your position as Student Council president, the trust or ear of important people. If you’re prepared to use it, make sure you don’t forget it’s there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Second,” and a second finger, “is to make sure you understand, ‘What do I want?’ Goals are impossible to meet if they aren’t well-established. If you don’t know what you want, you aimlessly slide from one idea to the next until you’ve lost sight of the original idea to begin with.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And then finally,” a third finger, “Once you’ve answered the easy questions, the last question is the most important. ‘How do I use what I have to get what I want?’ It’s the path that broaches the chasm between where you are and where you need to be. Knowing where you start and where you end are fine, but knowing how to get there is the true battle. There’s no map from here to there, beyond what you can construct using only what you have and where you’re going.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a beat, and Ren felt her cheeks heat slightly. “A-at least, that’s how it was explained to me,” she defended herself, realizing that she’d gotten a bit overly dramatic in her explanation. A hold-over from how she’d originally been taught, she figured.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That friend of yours must have been a smart person,” Makoto said with a smile, pulling out a sheet to make notes on.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” Ren thought, remembering the night in the church Hifumi had laid it all out to her as the pair sought to desperately dig her out of the hole Hifumi’s mother had put her daughter into with her scheming. All over a game of Shogi, of course.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, she really is.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, Yui, I guess the first step then is… ‘What do we have?’”</em>
</p><p>------------------------</p><p>“You don’t understand! You don’t understand anything! You’re just like all the rest! Leave me alone!”</p><p>With that, a teary Ann Takamaki bolted from the Student Council room, slamming the door on the way out. Makoto let out a groan of defeat, slumping into her chair.</p><p>“That could have gone better,” she quietly admitted to herself.</p><p>It had started well enough. She’d asked Takamaki-san to meet her in the student council room before classes under the guise of it being a favor to one of the 2nd year teachers. She hadn’t felt great about starting their interactions with a lie, but somehow she doubted “needing to talk to you about if you’re being stalked by a teacher” would go over better.</p><p>Unfortunately, Makoto realized rather quickly that she just wasn’t up for the rather delicate dance of waltzing around and up to a topic slowly while doing her best to navigate the tumultuous waters of Ann’s mood. The blonde had caught on alarmingly quickly that she wasn’t just here to talk about her classes and had not taken it particularly well.</p><p>Makoto wasn’t sure what was the bigger mistake: mentioning that she was trying to help or mentioning Shiho. On second though, no, she definitely knew which had been the bigger mistake. Mentioning that she was trying to help had been bad. It had put Takamaki-san on the defensive, protesting that there was nothing going on and that she could handle it and it wasn’t a big deal, all in one breath.</p><p>(Makoto couldn’t help but wonder if Takamaki-san was always that bad a liar or if it was because of the stress).</p><p>Mentioning Shiho had definitely been worse. The idea had been that reminding Ann what was at stake would have hopefully brought her to meet Makoto halfway to try and keep her friend safe. Instead, Ann had gone from the defense to going on the attack, and Makoto had been wholly unprepared for it.</p><p>Makoto stood from the table and pulled her bag up over her shoulder. She was half way to the door when something caught the corner of her eye.</p><p>Sitting on the floor next to the chair across from where she’d been sitting was Takamaki-san’s school bag. She walked over to it and crouched down, gently tugging on one of the unzipped sides</p><p>It was definitely Takamaki-san’s bag. She’d have to track the other girl down before class started and give it back to her.</p><p>She’d start with checking the bathrooms.</p><p>(Takamaki-san was in the second place she looked.)</p><p>-----------</p><p>Ren didn’t have to wait long after classes let out for lunch for Makoto to track her down. She could tell by the way Makoto was glancing back and forth and clutching tightly at her bag that something had happened, at least. She only hoped it was good news.</p><p>Ren grinned as Makoto sighed, heavily. “I wish there was a better way to do this,” she muttered, almost to herself.</p><p>“We both agreed…”</p><p>“We did,” Makoto admitted, a slight whine in her voice. “It’s just… my Sis is a district prosecutor. She’d be so disappointed in me if she knew…”</p><p>“If it makes you feel better you can consider it a bit of teenage rebellion?”</p><p>“Theft isn’t rebellion!” Makoto hissed. Ren very deliberately did not laugh, but it was absolutely a close thing. Ah, Irony. Her one true weakness.</p><p>“She’d be proud of you for saving a life.” And Ren knew it too. At least the Sae that she’d met after their heart-to-heart talk, at any rate.</p><p>“I guess…” She didn’t sound remotely sure, and it sort of broke Ren’s heart a little bit.</p><p>“Anyway, here,” Makoto said, quietly holding out a smartphone in a bright pink case. “Just… don’t tell anyone? Please?”</p><p>“Of course, of course,” Ren muttered absently, focused on the task at hands. Smaller fingers and longer fingernails actually made the task of removing the case and back cover from the phone.</p><p>“Everything went well enough, then?” Ren asked, mind in two places at once. Her fingers were not working as smoothly as she wanted them to, and it was slowing down her efforts. “You never called for the distraction.”</p><p>--------</p><p>
  <em>“Getting her phone won’t be easy,” Ren pointed out. “It’s not like we can just go up to her and ask for it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t see why not,” Makoto said. Ren raised a skeptical eyebrow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Would you give up your phone if a stranger asked you for it in the halls?” Ren countered, which was honestly a silly question because of course either of them would. Nobody with any sense would.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, no, but… What do you suggest, then?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, you let me handle that. I’ve got just the plan in mind already. Just text me when you’re ready, and I’ll provide a distraction that should let you ”</em>
</p><p>-------</p><p>“Didn’t need it,” Makoto deflected exactly why it wasn’t needed, and Ren didn’t ask. Makoto had probably come up with a brilliant alternative, which Ren was honestly thankful for. Without Ryuji to make a scene, her big ‘distraction idea’ had basically entailed pulling the fire alarm and praying for the best, after all.</p><p>She would never admit that to Makoto. Ever.</p><p>She flexed her hands, trying to let some of the tension out as she struggled to unlatch the back cover of the phone.</p><p>“Do you need some help?”</p><p>“No, no, I’ve got this. I just need to…” Ren trailed off into vague mumbling under her breath, still not ever actually looking up from her task. There was a snap of plastic on plastic and Ren let out a curse. “Work, damn you.”</p><p>Makoto hid a giggle behind her hand.</p><p>“Aha!” Ren exclaimed in triumph, holding up a small bit of plastic smaller than a fingernail. She set the rest of the phone off to the side, and held out a hand towards Makoto, palm up. “Okay, now I need your--”</p><p>Makoto beat her to the punch, placing her phone, sans case, in Ren’s palm. Ren turned it over in her hand for a moment, examining it.</p><p>---------</p><p>
  <em>“Please tell me you at least have a plan for all of these hypotheticals?” Makoto asked, setting down her pen and rubbing an eye. “I don’t know how good I feel hanging the fate of someone’s life on a missed phone call. Unless we plan on just never giving the phone back, we’d buy maybe a day before we get right back into this situation.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Across from her, Yui gave a single, sharp nod. Makoto had to admit, for as unassuming as the smaller girl looked, there was a sharp mind hidden behind that blue fringe. She could easily see the younger students graduating with honors in a few years.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Or running an underground crime ring, a small part of her mind chimed in. Makoto ignored it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If we can get our hands on the phone, I think our best option would be to try and convince Kamoshida that he’s somehow gotten the wrong number.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can’t we just convince her to block his number?” Makoto asked. “That seems like it’d be a lot more reasonable.” And they wouldn’t have to steal anything, Makoto didn’t add out loud.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yui shook her head. “Aside from the fact that none of us actually know his number to block,” Makoto winced. That was a good point. “All he’d have to do is threaten her in the halls to unblock him and we’d be right back to square one. That he hasn’t yet means that he’s at least attempting to maintain an appearance of propriety and plausible deniability.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, what? He calls, you answer, and pretend like it’s your phone?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kurusu shook her head, and the look on her face made Makoto feel like she’d just asked a very silly question.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It can’t be me,” Yui admitted, and Makoto was right. She hated this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Me?!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I am sorry, Makoto, really,” Yui said, and Makoto found herself believing the smaller girl. “Him thinking he has my phone number is just as bad a situation as the one we’re working to avoid. Possibly worse, given my… lack of friendly standing with the rest of the staff,” she admitted. It was the closest either girl had come to addressing Kurusu’s history</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For a moment, Makoto wanted to refuse. It wasn’t fair, any of it. That it had to be her. That it’d put her in danger.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But then, nothing about this situation was fair. Not that the volleyball team was dealing with an abusive coach and apathetic facility, nor that someone’s life was on the line and apparently two high school girls were the only people who could solve the situation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yui had told her that Kamoshida was a coward who only went after those he thought he could get away with. Hopefully, Sis would make her too dangerous a target. It was a big, big ‘if’, but… if the alternative was someone leaping from the roof of the school…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She could handle this. She would handle this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll do it,” she said, and was somewhat shocked when her voice didn’t waver in the slightest. Yui gave her the biggest smile in return. Still, there was at least one other problem. “You do realize that we won’t be able to get into the phone without the owner’s help though, right?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yui grinned. There were a lot of teeth. “Just leave that to me.”</em>
</p><p>---------</p><p>Ren would be the first person to admit that it was the little things about her new life that was catching her off-guard, more than the big things. She had very quickly adjusted to her new situation. Putting on a skirt rather than slacks in the morning for school was hardly worth a second thought after the first day. She’d stopped double-taking at mirrors on day three, and was slowly starting to teach herself to respond to requests for “Ms. Kurusu”, rather than ‘Mr. Amamiya’. Sure, she still couldn’t say her name out loud and that was annoying, but on the whole she was adapting better than she’d expected.</p><p>And then some small little thing would catch her completely off guard, and for a moment she’d very much be back to feeling like a stranger in her own skin.</p><p>Ren paused, hand half-way towards the non-existent pocket of her skirt, intending to pull out a wallet that she no longer carried where she no longer kept a hair pin. Instead, she reached up and pulled the hair clip out of her hair, letting her bangs fall partially across her face. She’d put it there this morning (which had come with a similar feeling to the one she had right at this minute), after realizing that it was actually acceptable for her to wear such a thing, and that her hair was both long and tame enough for it to make a difference.</p><p>“What are you even doing?” Makoto asked, watching over her shoulder.</p><p>“I’m swapping your SIM cards,” Ren explained, using the hair pin to remove the card from Makoto’s phone. “That way, any calls that get made to Ann’s phone will ring yours instead, meaning you should be able to bypass the lock and set up a voicemail message specifically for unknown numbers, just in case you somehow miss the call or can’t get free to answer it.” There was a beat as Ren finished swapping out the cards and turned Makoto’s phone back on.</p><p>“...you did remember to back this up, right?” she asked, making sure to make it obvious that she was kidding.</p><p>“I’ve got it covered,” Makoto said, taking back her phone, along with Ann’s which now contained Makoto’s SIM card, with a quick roll of her eyes. Ren brushed her hair back and reapplied the pin. “So I just need to put this card back in once we’re done here?”</p><p>“After Kamoshida calls, yeah,” Ren agreed. “Before that and you’ll just end up undoing everything we just finished. You can find a way to get Ann’s phone back to her tomorrow once we know everything is safe. You good to set up the voicemail message?”</p><p>“Consider it done. What are you going to do?”</p><p>“Me?” Ren reached into her bag and pulled out a small box of cards. “Why, I’ve got some psychic powers to demonstrate, obviously.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh man. I owe you guys an explanation for the last few months of silence, don’t I? So in early October I ended up getting (non-COVID) sick bad enough to require a week in the hospital, which was awful. The resulting wound that came from the surgery *still* hasn’t fully healed, and I’ll spare you the gorey details but it was awful and painful and involved me spending over two months living with my mom in a cabin in the woods and just… </p><p>Yeah. It happened. I apologize. It was awful and I didn’t really have the ability or the motivation to try and do any writing, which is why this is so late.</p><p>I actually ended up cutting the Makoto/Ann conversation and let it happen off-screen because the words weren’t coming and it’s already been like 4 months without a comment. The scene that was going to happen at the end has also been pushed off to next chapter as well. Break out your tarot decks again, because I cannot help but make my own tarot spread for narrative import XD</p><p>I don’t really have a long and involved thought that warrants a spoiler to put here this time. Maybe next chapter.</p><p>Out on the forums I post this to I made a game of offering a reward of answering any one question to the first person to guess Ren's new starting persona, with a new hint coming each chapter. This is the first chapter since, so here's the first hint:</p><p>“Ren’s new Persona thematically fits with the rest of the thieves”</p><p>There, nice and vague, lol.  </p><p>Corrections and comments always welcome</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just cannot help myself. </p>
<p>I wanted to do this idea back in P4/P4G timeline shenanigans, but never found the time. Since I’m trying to write more, this seemed like as good a time as any to get this idea out there.  Let me know if it’s any good? I know I have weird ways of describing things, but I hope it’s something that works anyway?</p>
<p>Comments are always welcome, as is constructive criticism. Suggestions for things to see may or may not be used, as I've got a loose plan already, but I love hearing other people's thoughts no matter what. Also if anyone has a better idea for a name for this thing, please let me know. I have blanked on it so hard.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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